THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

GIFT  OF 

Mrs*  George  Papashvily 


THE 


LlLLINGSTONES 


OF 


LILLINGSTONE. 


BY 

EMMA    JANE    WORBOISE. 


ILLUSTRATED. 


NEW  YORK : 

DODD    &    MEAD,    PUBLISHERS, 

762  Broadway. 
1873. 


GIFT 


CONTENTS. 


PART  I. 
CHAPTER  I. 


FAMILY  FOIBLES 


CHAPTER  II. 
THE  UNBIDDEN  GUEST  ....    *    ......       15 

CHAPTER  III. 
THE  SCENE  CHANGES    ...........       26 

CHAPTER  IV. 

"ENAVANT!"       .............          43 

CHAPTER  V. 
THE  FIRST  LAURELS      ...........       59 

CHAPTER  71. 
"THE  CAMPBELLS  ARE  COMING!"   .......      74 

CHAPTER  VII. 
SUNDAY-SCHOOL  TEACHERS  88 


037 


vi  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Page 

COVE  HALL      ..............    371 

CHAPTER  X. 
SEPARATION      .............    •    381 


CHAPTER  XI. 
THE  GARDEN  WALKS     ............    398 

CHAPTER  XII. 
THE  DOXOLOGY      ..............    410 


PART  I. 


THE 

LILLINGSTOMS  OF  LILLINGSTME. 

PART  I. 
CHAPTEE    L 

FAMILY  FOIBLES. 

IT  was  a  beautiful  afternoon  in  the  month  of  May. 
Lillingstone  looked  its  loveliest,  with  the  calm, 
sweet  sunshine  on  its  grey  mellow  walls,  on  its 
flowery  terraces,  and  its  wavy  upland  lawns,  that, 
half  park  and  half  field,  sloped  away  to  the  broad 
belt  of  pine  woods  skirting  the  line  of  rocky,  lonely 
hills,  at  the  eastern  extremity  of  the  estate. 

The  gardens  gave  rich  promise  of  flowers  and 
fruitage  yet  to  come ;  the  hawthorns  were  all  one 
sheet  of  pearly  fragrant  beauty ;  the  delicate  green 
branches  of  the  acacia  waved  gently  in  the  warm, 
soft  air,  mingling  their  white,  tress-like  blossoms 
with  the  golden  chains  of  the  laburnum.  The  large- 
flowered  scented  lilac  shed  its  perfume  on  every 


2  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

passing  zephyr;  the  snowy,  rose-tipped  spirals  of 
the  horse-chestnut  were  dropping  their  petals  on 
the  thick  velvet  sward  ;  while  the  silvery,  foam-like 
balls  of  the  guelder-rose,  the  pure  ivory  of  the 
luscious  syringa,  and  the  glorious  tints  of  magni- 
ficent rhododendrons  and  azaleas,  made  beautiful 
every  mound  and  plot  and  terrace  of  the  large,  old- 
fashioned  parterres  of  Lillingstone  Hall. 

The  house  itself  was  such  as  we  often  see  in  our 
country  rambles,  and  wonder  whether  it  is  ancient 
or  modern.  It  was  built  of  dark  grey  stone,  all 
weather-stained  and  lichen-grown,  and  it  was  orna- 
mented with  heavy  balustrades  and  balconies,  broad 
gables,  several  massy  buttresses,  and  divers  pert 
pinnacles,  that  shot  up  turret- wise  where  one  would 
least  expect  to  see  them. 

There  were  plate-glass  French  windows  opening 
on  the  south  terrace,  and  heavy  mullioned  case- 
ments, with  tiny  leaded  panes,  on  the  north.  There 
was  the  Tudor  style  predominant;  there  was  also 
the  style  of  Queen  Anne ;  and  here  and  there  un- 
mistakeable  evidences  of  the  style  of  Queen  Yictoria. 
The  nephew  and  assistant  of  the  village  doctor 
confidently  pronounced  Lillingstone  to  be  "pure 
Grecian."  Why  he  made  such  an  assertion,  no  one 
ever  knew ;  but  the  rector's  son,  who  read  Buskin, 
and  was  great  upon  mediaeval  architecture,  and  there- 
fore pitied  the  ignorant  multitude  who  could  not 
discern  between  a  Saxon  and  a  Norman  arch,  called 


FAMILY   FOIBLES.  3 

it  a  commingling  of  the  Byzantine,  and  Renaissance, 
and  Pointed  Gothic  eras.  Perhaps  he  was  right ; 
certainly  there  was  no  one  at  hand  to  contradict 
him ;  but  when,  once  upon  a  time,  an  archaeological 
party  caine  that  way,  they  retreated  in  disgust,  de- 
claring that  Lillingstone  was  "very  lase!"  The 
house  was  the  same  jumble  within  as  without ; 
there  were  lofty,  elegant  rooms,  broad  staircases, 
and  noble  corridors,  that  would  not  have  disgraced 
the  mansions  of  Belgravia ;  and  there  were  also  low- 
ceiled,  dark  wainscoted  chambers,  narrow  corkscrew 
stairs,  and  long,  gloomy,  vaulted  passages,  savouring 
strongly  of  the  time  when  every  respectable  family 
mansion  had  its  own  legend,  and  its  own  ghost. 

But  through  and  over  all  there  was  an  unmistak- 
able air  of  life  and  brightness  and  comfort ;  there 
was  nothing  glaring  or  showy  in  the  grander  rooms, 
and  nothing  mean  and  scanty  in  those  of  humbler 
aspect — at  least,  in  those  of  them  that  were  inhabited. 
It  was  quite  clear  that  Lillingstone  was  the  abode 
of  persons  of  gentle  birth  and  refined  education. 

In  a  large,  low  room,  having  no  less  than  six 
windows,  looking  north  and  west,  sat,  on  that  sunny 
May  afternoon,  a  party  of  young  people,  all  busily 
occupied,  save  one,  a  girl  of  eighteen  or  nineteen 
years  of  age,  who  was  dreamily  gazing  out  on  the 
broad  sunshiny  landscape  that  sloped  gradually  down- 
wards, till  the  soft  hazy  distance  melted  into  the 
grey  sea-line  that  bounded  the  horizon.  Her  work, 

B  2 


4  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

some  pretty  trifle  of  embroidery,  lay  at  her  feet; 
and  her  fingers  wandered  unconsciously  through  the 
clustering  brown  curls  that  shaded  a  fair,  sweet, 
but  rather  anxious  countenance. 

At  another  window  sat  a  youth  of  sixteen,  busy 
with  some  construing,  but  every  now  and  then  rais- 
ing his  handsome  face  to  gaze  cautiously  at  his  sister 
Katharine,  as  if  the  shadow  of  care  that  rested  on 
her  smooth,  open  brow,  were  something  that  puzzled 
and  discomfited  him. 

At  the  large  central  table  were  two  more  girls 
and  another  boy ;  the  latter  a  pale,  delicate-looking 
child  of  nine,  with  large,  serious  blue  eyes,  and 
girlish  ringlets  of  golden  hair.  The  young  ladies, 
Bertha  and  Mildred  Lillingstone,  were  respectively 
fifteen  and  thirteen  years  old.  The  elder  of  the  two 
was  copying  music  with  extraordinary  neatness  and 
rapidity,  ruling  her  bars  with  scrupulous  exactness, 
dotting  her  crotchets  and  quavers  with  the  preci- 
sion of  a  connoisseur,  and  marking  clefs  with  all 
the  skill  and  action  of  a  practised  draughtswoman. 
She  was  dressed  like  her  sisters ;  but  there  was  an 
air  of  trimness  and  daintiness  in  her  simple  attire 
that  was  peculiar  to  herself,  and  presented  a  remark- 
able contrast  to  the  costume  of  her  younger  sister 
who  sat  by  her  side,  stooping  low  over  a  water- 
colour  drawing,  at  which  she  was  working  with 
more  speed  than  success.  Mildred  was  tall  and 
thin,  with  long  arms  and  a  very  dingy  complexion. 


FAMILY  FOIBLES.  5 

Her  dark  hair  hung  in  heavy  curls  round  a  face 
that,  in  spite  of  its  large  nose  and  mouth,  and  its 
worse  than  mere  absence  of  lilies  and  roses,  looked 
bright  and  pleasant.  But  the  abundant  tresses  were 
rough  and  sadly  tangled,  and  quite  innocent  of  any 
gloss,  either  natural  or  artificial ;  while  Bertha  was 
slight  and  small,  and  exquisitely  fair,  with  such 
snowy  little  hands,  and  such  rosy-tipped  palms  and 
fingers,  and  such  shining,  wavy  bands  of  golden  hair, 
smoothed  round  a  well-formed  head,  that  was  set  on 
the  slender  white  neck  and  drooping  shoulders- like  a 
faultless  capital  on  a  perfectly  symmetrical  shaft. 

Mildred's  dress  was  of  precisely  the  same  fashion 
and  material  as  Bertha's  ;  but  it  looked  at  once  too 
large  and  too  small ;  and  an  apron,  which  seemed 
to  have  done  extra  duty  as  duster  and  pen- wiper, 
was  pinned  on  her  waist,  instead  of  being  fastened 
in  the  legitimate  way.  Her  feet  were  crossed  as 
decidedly  as  any  crusader's  in  efiigy,  and  ever  and 
anon  one  foot  went  poking  and  sliding  about  in 
quest  of  a  disreputable-looking  slipper,  that  was 
manifestly  disqualified  for  the  position  it  was  ex- 
pected to  fill ;  and,  to  crown  all,  she  had  been  trying 
her  paints  on  the  backs  of  her  hands,  and  on  her 
arms,  thus  giving  herself  a  striking  resemblance  to 
a  wild  Indian  in  holiday  costume. 

There  was  still  another  inmate  of  the  room.  Helen 
Lillingstone,  a  tall,  graceful  girl,  in  age  between 
Katharine,  the  eldest  of  the  family,  and  Alfred,  the 


6  THE   LTLLINGSTONES. 

dark- eyed  youth,  who  was  so  busy  with  his  Euri- 
pides. Helen  was  quite  as  dark  as  Mildred,  but 
much  handsomer — if,  indeed,  it  were  fair  to  make 
the  comparison  at  all.  She  sat  apart  from  the  rest, 
lounging  not  ungracefully  in  a  large  easy  chair,  and 
devouring  one  of  the  green-covered  numbers  of 
"  Dombey  and  Son "  with  a  rapidity  and  a  zest 
that  evidenced  her  thorough  enjoyment  of  the  tale. 
Presently  Eertha  rose ;  she  had  finished  her  task, 
and  she  laid  her  MS.  music-book  on  the  pianoforte 
to  dry.  "  Katharine,"  she  said,  at  length,  breaking 
the  unwonted  silence  of  that  room,  "  at  what  hour 
to-morrow  shall  we  go  to  Sandmouth?" 

"To  Sandmouth?"  replied  Katharine,  dreamily; 
"  what  are  we  going  for  ?  " 

"Is  it  possible  you  can  forget?  For  wools, 
canvas,  beads,  tinted  note-paper,  stamps,  the  May 
number  of  '  Dombey,'  and  l  Elackwood,'  and — oh ! 
fifty  things  besides  !" 

"  I  suppose  we  must  have  the  postage-stamps," 
said  Katharine,  still  abstractedly. 

"  We  must  have  all  the  things ;  we  want  them," 
returned  Eertha,  looking  rather  surprised.  "  Dear 
Kate,  you  made  out  the  list  yourself  yesterday,  and 
we  should  have  gone  to-day,  only  papa  had  an  en- 
gagement with  that  stupid  lawyer,  and  we  could 
not  be  sure  about  the  carriage." 

"While  this  dialogue  was  going  on,  Alfred  was 
watching  Katharine  intently.  He  came  up  to  his 


FAMILY  FOIBLES.  7 

sisters,  and  taking  Kate's  arm,  he  said,  "You  have 
that  wretched  headache  again,  old  Katty.  Never 
mind  the  shopping ;  come  with  me  into  the  garden." 

"  Yery  well — only  one  moment ;  let  me  put  these 
wools  into  my  basket." 

Meanwhile  there  was  a  general  movement.  Helen 
flung  her  "Dombey  "  on  the  piano,  and  it  swept  in 
its  flight  the  yet  undried  page  of  Bertha's  copying, 
making  all  the  array  of  crotchets  and  quavers  look 
like  a  swarm  of  comets,  with  their  tails  blazing 
one  way.  Walter  saw  the  disaster  first,  and  cried 
out,  "  Oh,  Bertha,  look!  what  a  smudge !" 

Bertha  turned  quickly,  the  impatient  crimson 
glowing  on  neck  and  brow  as  she  beheld  her  work 
defaced  and  spoilt.  Her  little  fingers  trembled  as 
she  took  up  the  unfortunate  book,  and  remarked 
with  no  small  asperity  that  perhaps  Helen  would 
re-copy  it  for  her  in  the  evening.  "  Not  this  even- 
ing," returned  Helen,  with  very  little  demonstration 
of  regret.  "  I  am  sorry,  dear,  I  have  spoilt  your 
neat  copying ;  but  you  need  not  remove  the  page : 
when  it  dries,  we  can  scratch  out  the  worst  of  the 
smears ;  it  will  read  just  as  well ! " 

.  "  Read  just  as  well!"  returned  Bertha,  indig- 
nantly; "  do  you  think  I  could  ever  place  such  a 
blurred,  marred  page  before  me  ?  I  never  care  for 
a  thing  unless  it  be  perfect  of  its  kind." 

"  I  know  that.  Well,  let  me  see !  to-morrow — no, 
the  day  after  I  will  try  what  I  can  do ;  but  I  warn 


8  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

you,  Bertha,  that  any  copy  of  mine  is  sure  to  be 
erroneous,  if  not  illegible." 

"You  need  not  trouble  yourself.  I  know  your 
style :  your  MS.  music  is  about  equal  to  Mildred's 
sewing." 

""Well,  I  am  sorry,"  continued  Helen,  opening  a 
book;  "but  don't  make  such  a  fuss:  it  was  un 
accident,  and  accidents  will  happen." 

"They  need  not;  they  ought  not,"  said  Bertha, 
hotly. 

"Oh,  Bertha!"  put  in  Mildred,  "how  can  you 
say  so.  I  don't  mean  things  come  by  chance ;  but 
there  must  le  accidents  sometimes." 

"Yes,  if  one  is  careless  and  foolish!"  replied 
Bertha,  with  intense  disgust,  as  Mildred,  in  order 
to  emphasise  her  "  must"  struck  her  tumbler  of 
dirty  water  instead  of  her  colour-box,  and  deluged 
her  drawing,  and  Alfred's  Greek  verses  as  well. 
Every  one  rushed  to  the  rescue.  Katharine  snatched 
up  her  wools  with  a  glance  of  reproof  at  Mildred. 
Bertha  held  out  to  Alfred  his  soaked  hexameters; 
Walter  laughed  at  the  confusion,  and  Mildred  her- 
self coolly  unpinned  her  unfortunate  apron,  and 
began  to  mop  up  the  water  with  it. 

"  Mildred !  how  can  you  ?"  cried  Bertha,  severely. 
"  Oh,  this  intolerable  carelessness  !  It  is  useless 
to  try  to  keep  things  in  order.  I  do  so  wish  wo 
might  have  a  governess  again !  " 

Mildred  made  a  face — "  Not  one  like  Mademoiselle 


FAMILY  FOIBLES.  9 

Agathe  Yirginie  Palmyre  Melanie  de  Montalem* 
bert !  "  slie  ejaculated,  as  she  vigorously  sopped  up 
tlie  remaining  fluid,  crumpled  up  her  spoilt  drawing, 
and  threw  it  into  the  fender,  and  finally  polished 
up  her  paint-hox  with  her  pocket  handkerchief. 

"  Mademoiselle  Anything,"  retorted  Bertha,  an- 
grily. Before  she  could  say  more,  Katharine  came 
quietly  forward,  took  the  handkerchief  from  Mildred's 
parti-coloured  hands,  and  rang  the  hell  for  a  servant. 

"Now  don't,  Katty!"  cried  Mildred;  "it's  all 
right !  "  Katharine  pointed  gravely  to  the  drenched 
table-cloth,  and  to  the  carpet,  where  a  small  lake 
was  gradually  absorbing.  The  servant  came — an 
elderly  woman  who  had  been  in  the  family  for  more 
than  one  generation — and  as  she  carried  off  the 
cloth,  she  exclaimed,  "  One  of  Miss  Milly's  awkward 
tricks,  I'll  be  bound  !  " 

By  this  time  Mildred  had  fairly  succumbed  to 
censure,  and  Katharine,  telling  her  she  looked  like 
a  decorated  savage,  gently  bade  her  go  to  her  room, 
and  make  herself  fit  to  be  seen.  She  ran  off,  after 
a  hasty  skirmish  for  the  missing  slipper,  and  then 
Katharine  perceived  that  all  the  others,  excepting 
Bertha,  had  likewise  disappeared. 

4  <  Bertha  dear,  don't  be  vexed,"  she  said  to  her 
sister,  who  was  still  hanging  over  her  luckless  music- 
book;  "it  is  very  troublesome  to  have  one's  things 
spoiled,  and  it  is  a  great  pity  that  Helen  is  so 
careless  and  Milly  so  untidy ;  but  it  will  do  no 


10  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

good  to  be  angry.  It  is  the  best,  and,  indeed,  the 
only  way,  to  be  patient,  in  a  large  family  like  ours. 
If  we  cannot  bear  with  each  other's  foibles,  what 
shall  we  do  in  the  world  ?  If  we  are  cross  with 
each  other's  mistakes,  surely  strangers  will  be  cmel 
and  spiteful." 

"Mistakes  need  not  occur  ;  foibles  should  be  cor- 
rected," replied  Eertha,  impatiently.  "I  tell  you, 
Katty,  there  ought  to  be  another  governess.  It  is 
six  months  since  Mademoiselle  went  away,  and  I 
do  not  believe  mamma  has  made  one  effort  towards 
finding  her  successor.  She  would  not  even  look  at 
the  advertisement  I  showed  her  the  other  day,  and  it 
was  exactly  what  we  wanted." 

Katharine  looked  uneasily  at  her  sister  as  she 
replied,  "I  do  not  think,  Eertha,  either  you  or  I 
are  qualified  to  judge  what  kind  of  governess  we 
require,  and  we  maybe  sure  mamma's  delay  proceeds 
from  some  very  sufficient  cause.  We  have  as  little 
right  to  question  her  inaction  as  to  criticise  her 
decisions." 

"No  one  ever  seems  to  see  things,"  returned 
Eertha  bitterly ;  and  feeling  that  her  temper  was 
fast  escaping  from  her  control,  she  wisely  retreated 
to  her  chamber,  where,  unhappily,  she  found  Helen 
lying  on  her  own  bed  reading  "  Hyperion."  The 
temptation  to  worry,  and  lecture  about  careless- 
ness, idleness,  and  selfishness,  was  irresistible ;  and 
at  length  Helen  was  fairly  roused,  and  turning 


FAMILY  FOIBLES.  11 

down  the  leaf  at  tlie  legend  of  the  Fountain  of 
Oblivion,  she  set  herself  to  answer  Bertha's  inuen- 
does  with  what  she  called  proper  spirit.  So  the 
quarrel  that  had  died  ont  in  the  school-room  was 
revived  in  the  bed-room,  and  the  young  ladies  battled 
on  with  charge  and  counter-charge  and  retort,  till 
Bertha,  felt  as  if  she  hated  everybody,  and  Helen 
gave  way  to  hysterical  tears. 

Meanwhile,  Katharine  went  into  the  garden,  where 
Alfred  was  awaiting  her,  and  for  some  minutes 
they  walked  up  and  down  the  broad  walk  without 
speaking.  Then  Alfred  began — "Katty!  what  is 
the  meaning  of  all  this  ?  What  makes  papa  so  cross, 
and  mamma  so  wretched,  and  you  so  anxious  ?  And 
why  do  not  the  girls  have  another  governess  ?  There 
is  Helen  reading  novels  the  live-long  day;  Milly 
such  a  slattern  that  she  is  a  libel  on  girls  in  general ; 
while  Bertha's  conceit  and  fastidiousness  are  growing 
unbearable ;  and  all  for  want  of  some  one  to  exercise 
the  proper  authority !  Even  little  Alice  runs  wild, 
and  Walter  is  fast  becoming  a  juvenile  hypochon- 
driac. I  see  these  evils,  Katty  :  you  are  in  the  midst 
of  them ;  and  we  never  perceive  how  things  increase 
when  we  look  at  them  every  day ;  but  if  you  had 
been  from  home,  as  I  have,  ever  since  the  winter, 
you  would  be  startled  to  find  how  wrong  and  out  of 
joint  everything  and  everybody  in  the  house  seems 
to  be!" 

"I  know  I  am  a  very  bad  eldest  sister,"  began 


12  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

Katharine,  humbly;  but  Alfred  stopped  her: — "I 
didn't  mean  that,  old  Kit,  and  it  isn't, fair  to  say 
it  of  yourself.  Don't  you  hear  them  their  lessons, 
from  Bertha  to  Alice  ?  don't  you  nurse  and  comfort 
mamma,  and  order  the  dinner,  and  pour  out  the  tea  ?" 

"  The  last  duty  is  the  only  one  I  perform  to  my 
own  satisfaction.  Cook  never  obeys  my  orders ;  and 
I  think  sometimes  it  is  a  good  thing  she  does  not ; 
and  as  for  the  children's  lessons,  they  make  me 
wretched.  I  have  no  influence  with  Eertha:  she 
sets  me  at  defiance,  in  her  quiet  way;  and  dear 
Milly,  though  she  is  humble  and  obedient  as  a  little 
child,  wearies  one  sadly  with  her  untidiness  and  her 
blunders,  and  her  curious  ways,  and  still  more  curious 
ideas  about  things  that  the  rest  of  us  never  think  of. 
Eeally,  sometimes  I  feel  that  I  would  rather  teach  two 
Berthas  than  one  Milly — there's  less  responsibility ! " 

"But  why  should  you  teach  either?  It  was  all 
very  well  for  a  few  weeks,  till  a  new  governess  could 
be  engaged.  Surely  we  might  find  some  highly 
eligible  person  willing  and  able  to  undertake  the 
education  of  the  five  Misses  Lillingstone — I  beg 
pardon,  Katty,  I  mean  four.  Of  course,  a  governess 
would  have  nothing  to  do  with  you,  and  not  much, 
I  suspect,  with  Helen." 

"Helen  has  lost  so  much  time  that  she  ought  to 
have  another  year ;  mamma  says  so.  As  for  myself, 
I  should  be  only  too  glad  to  study  under  some  nice, 
clever,  large-minded  woman. " 


FAMILY  FOIBLES.  13 

"Then  why  not  have  one?  The  hest  governess 
in  the  world  may  be  had  for  money ! " 

"  That  is  exactly  where  it  is.  Papa  seems  to 
think — I  cannot  tell  what  he  thinks;  hut  he  told 
mamma  she  need  not  trouble  herself  about  a  gover- 
ness at  present ;  and  when  she  said  I  was  not  com- 
petent, he  was  so  angry,  and  he  muttered  something 
about  '  hundreds  thrown  away  then.'  I  am  afraid 
he  meant  on  me." 

"  There  is  something  wrong,"  said  Alfred,  se- 
riously. "Katty,  do  you  really  think  there  is  any 
trouble  about  money  ?" 

"  I  am  almost  sure  there  is ;  but,  you  know,  papa 
never  says  anything.  Mamma  does  not  know  cer- 
tainly, but  she  is  sadly  afraid." 

"  I  say,  Kittums,  it  might  be  a  good  thing  for  us 
to  be  jolly  poor  for  a  bit.  We  want  something  to 
turn  us  round  and  stir  us  up ;  we  are  all  angles  and 
corners,  and  everything  that  is  unsatisfactory.  But 
then  how  could  I  go  to  Oxford  ?  And  if  I  were 
hindered  going,  I  should  be  ready  to  drown  myself." 

"  I  hope  not,  Alfred ;  but  whatever  happens,  there 
is  the  Pounder's  Kin  at  Oldminster,  and  you  might 
get  an  exhibition  or  something." 

"I  might,  I  WOULD  !  but  fancy  going  to  Oxford 
on  £60  a  year!  Well,  Katty,  I  don't  know— it 
might  not  be  quite  pleasant — but  I  believe  it  might 
make  a  man  of  me  to  have  to  fight  my  own  way  in 
the  world." 


14  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

Katty  looked  doubtful. 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  it  is,  old  Kittums,  we  are  all 
sixes  and  sevens,  because  we  have  nothing  solid  to 
go  upon.  "We  are  by  no  means  a  religious  family. 
If  we  were — I  don't  know,  but  I  fancy  things 
might  take  a  turn  and  be  different." 


THE   UNBIDDEN   GUEST.  15 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE   UNBIDDEN   GTJEST* 

KATHAEINE  and  Alfred  came  in  somewhat  cheered 
and  refreshed  from  their  confidential  tete-a-tete 
among  the  lilacs.  Tea  was  ready  in  the  drawing- 
room,  and  Katharine  hastened  to  throw  off  her  hat 
and  take  her  seat  at  the  table. 

Mr.  Lillingstone  was  not  present,  and  Mrs.  Lilling- 
stone  sat,  as  usual,  in  her  lounging-chair,  looking 
paler  and  more  fragile  than  was  even  her  wont. 
The  shadow  had  passed  from  the  sweet,  blooming 
face  of  her  eldest  daughter,  but  it  rested,  as  it 
seemed  abidingly,  on  a  face  almost  as  fair  and  sweet, 
though  long  ago  faded  by  illness  and  sorrow  and 
anxiety — a  face  that  wore  a  strange,  troubled  ex- 
pression, a  wistful  sadness,  that  seemed  to  tell  how 
the  darkness  and  the  storm  had  gathered  long  ago 
over  the  landscape  of  life,  that  might  have  been  so 
bright,  and  to  question  piteously,  though  not  re- 
piningly,  WHY  this  were  so ! 

Helen  read  and  sipped  her  tea  at  the  same  time. 


16  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

Her  face  had  not  Bertha's  faultless  beauty;  her 
skin  was  dark,  but  clear ;  her  eyes  deep  and  shadowy; 
and  sometimes  beaming  with  an  expression  that 
lighted  up  cheek  and  brow  with  a  radiance  that 
never  shone  on  Bertha's  perfect  features;  and  her 
tall,  slender  figure,  might  have  served  as  a  model 
for  the  delineation  of  a  Grace.  She  bent  now  over 
her  volume  of  Tennyson,  her  long,  dark  lashes 
sweeping  the  roses  that  poetic  enthusiasm  mantled 
on  her  cheeks.  The  "May  Queen"  was  thrilling 
her  whole  soul,  and  it  was  not  to  be  expected  that 
such  sublunary  things  as  shrimps,  and  bread  and 
butter,  and  marmalade  should  command  any  portion 
of  her  attention.  Alfred  sat  by  his  favourite  Katie, 
managing  the  hot  water  for  her,  and  thinking  how 
she  had  said  in  the  garden  that  pouring  out  the  tea 
was  the  only  duty  which  she  performed  to  her  own 
satisfaction. 

Bertha  had  by  no  means  recovered  her  equanimity, 
and  she  sat  the  very  personification  of  neatness  and 
propriety,  gravely  spreading  her  dry  toast,  with 
neither  too  much  nor  too  little  butter,  eschewing 
marmalade  as  childish,  and  shrimps  as  untidy,  and 
stirring  her  tea  with  the  unexceptionable  air  of  a 
young  lady  accustomed  to  genteel  society.  But  the 
perfect  features  and  the  exquisite  complexion,  shaded 
by  glossy,  wavy  wreaths  of  bright  hair,  did  not  look 
so  very  lovely  after  all.  Kate  thought  Bertha  was 
unusually  serious ;  Alfred  privately  decided  that  she 


THE  UNBIDDEN  GUEST  17 

was  sulky.  Mildred  also  liad  a  book  before  her, 
but  she  laid  it  aside  in  a  moment  at  a  glance  from 
Katharine;  and  she  began  forthwith  stirring  her 
tea  as  if  sugar  had  ceased  to  be  soluble.  After  a 
minute's  vigorous  use  of  the  spoon,  she  burst  out, 
"  That  is  a  glorious  verse !" 

"  Milly,  my  dear,  you  did  so  startle  me!"  said 
the  invalid  mother,  crimsoning  with  nervousness  at 
the  loud,  abrupt  tones  of  her  young  daughter. 

11  Oh  !  did  I,  mamma  ?  I  am  so  sorry  !  I  wish  I 
could  be  quiet  like  Bertha,  or  thoughtful  like  Katty ; 
but  it  is  a  right  glorious,  grand  verse !  " 

"  What  is?"  asked  Helen,  who  having  finished 
"  The  May  Queen,"  drew  a  long  breath,  and  began 
to  apply  herself  to  the  comestibles. 

"Listen!— 

'  Not  enjoyment,  and  not  sorrow, 
Is  our  destined  end  or  way ; 
But  to  act,  that  each  to-morrow 
Find  us  farther  than  to-day/ 

There's  another,  better  still : — 

'  Trust  no  Future  howe'er  pleasant ; 
Let  the  dead  Past  bury  its  Dead ! 
Act — act  in  the  living  Present, 
Heart  within,  and  God  overhead !  •'  * 

6 '  Longfellow's  '  Psalm  of  Life'— a  very  old  thing ! " 
remarked  Helen,  in  a  tone  that  would  have  been 
contemptuous  had  it  been  less  languid. 


18  THE  LILLINGSTONES. 

"  Why,  Hilly,  liave  you  never  heard  that  before  ?" 
asked  Alfred. 

"  Oh  yes,  to  be  sure  I  have ;  but  it  never  struck 
me  before.  It  was  just  a  piece  of  poetry,  and 
nothing  else ;  but  now  it  seems  to  speak  to  me — to 
tell  me  something." 

"  I  hope  it  will  tell  you  to  brush  your  hair,  and 
to  put  your  things  away,  and  to  tidy  your  drawers 
and  your  boxes !"  interrupted  Bertha. 

Mildred  looked  humble  and  ashamed.  She  re- 
membered how  that  very  morning  she  had  hastily 
thrust  her  winter  flannels  into  the  drawer  where  she 
kept  her  muslin  collars,  her  ribbons,  and,  in  fact,  all 
the  little  finery  she  possessed ;  and  just  because  she 
would  not  take  the  trouble  to  go  into  the  next  room, 
where  Katty  and  Bertha  had  been  arranging  all  the 
clothes  not  needed  for  the  summer  season. 

"But  it  means  something  higher  than  that,"  she 
said  at  length.  "It  doesn't  mean  little,  common, 
every-day  things ! " 

"  Perhaps  not,"  was  the  sententious  answer ;  "  but 
turrets  stand  upon  towers,  that  stand  upon  stones, 
that  lie  level  with  the  ground." 

"Excellent,  sister  Bertha!"  cried  Alfred.  "Pray 
may  I  ask  whether  that  oracular  speech  is  original 
or  cribbed?" 

"I  do  not  know  what  'cribbed'  means,"  rejoined 
Bertha,  with  dignity. 

"  Oh  yes,  you    do !    When  I  told  you  I  had 


THE  UNBIDDEN   GUEST.  19 

cribbed  your  new  piece  of  India-rubber,  you  re- 
marked that  I  had  singular  notions  of  property! 
Don't  you  remember?" 

A  dignified  silence  was  the  only  response. 
Helen's  musical  voice  was  heard  next : — 
"  Your  glorious  poetry,  Milly,  is,  after  all,  nothing 
more  than   a  moral   enunciation   in  measure   and 
rhyme.     It  is  terribly  rough !     There  is  something 
about   'dumb,  driven  cattle'    in   another  verse,  a 
most  uncouth  metaphor ! " 

"  'Be  not  like  dumb,  driven  cattle, 
Be  a  hero  in  the  strife ! ' " 

shouted  Mildred,  growing  very  red  in  defence  of 
her  cherished  "  Psalm  of  Life."  "  Listen,  Helen— 

'  Lives  of  great  men  all  remind  us, 
We  can  make  our  lives  sublime, 
And  departing,  leave  behind  us, 
Footsteps  on  the  sands  of  Time ! ' 

'  The  sands  of  Time ! '  That  is  a  beautiful  expression ! 
The  wild  shore,  with  its  rocks  and  its  sands,  life; 
the  great  ocean,  eternity" 

"It  may  be^we,"  said  Helen,  critically;  "but  it 
is  unmelodious.  Now,  if  you  want  real  poetry,  listen 
to  this: — 

<  Where  Claribel  low  lieth, 

The  breezes  pause  and  die ; 
Letting  the  rose-leaves  fall ; 
But  the  solemn  oak-tree  sigheth, 
c  2 


20  THE   LILLINGSTONE&. 

Thick-leaved,  ambrosial, 

With  an  ancient  melody, 
Of  an  inward  agony, 

Where  Claribel  low  lieth.' " 

Mildred  acknowledged  the  musical  rhythm  of  the 
words.  To  hear  them  in  Helen's  sweet,  deep  tones 
was  like  listening  to  the  dying  thrills  of  Eolian 
harp- strings.  But  she  asked  directly,  ""Who  was 
Claribel?" 

"I  cannot  say,"  replied  Helen;  "probably  a 
creation  of  the  poet's  exquisite  fancy." 

"It  is  very  pleasant  to  hear,"  returned  Mildred; 
"  but  I  think  my  '  dumb,  driven  cattle '  does  one 
more  good.  '  The  Psalm  of  Life,'  you  see,  does  for 
everybody ;  while  half  the  people  will  never  care 
whether  Claribel  is  buried  under  an  oak  tree  or  in 
a  town  churchyard,  with  marbles  rolling,  instead  of 
rose-leaves  falling,  on  her  grave." 

This  was  too  much  for  Helen.  Boys  playing 
marbles  on  Claribel' s  grave ! — where  the  beetle  boom- 
ing, and  the  wild-bee  humming,  and  the  clear- voiced 
mavis  dwelling,  combined  to  make  sweetest  music ! 
Alfred  said  he  thought  Mildred  had  the  best  of  the 
argument,  and  that  Tennyson  was  a  fine  fellow, 
and  had  written  better  stuff  than  that  mawkish 
1 1  Claribel ; "  whereupon  Helen  withdrew  into  herself, 
with  a  sense  of  fueling  and  seeing  beauty  that  no 
one  else  perceived  or  appreciated. 

"My  dears,  you  must  take  a  walk  this  evening," 


THE  UNBIDDEN   GUEST.  21 

said  Mrs.  Lillingstone,  when  the  cause  of  Longfellow 
versus  Tennyson  had  heen  dropped.  "  It  has  been 
very  warm  all  day,  and  the  evening  will  be  delight- 
ful. You  had  better  go  over  Shepperton  downs,  and 
round  by  the  Priory,  and  so  home  through  the  lanes. 
Alfred,  are  you  busy  ?  Can  you  escort  your  sisters  ?" 

"  I  am  at  their  disposal,  mamma.  "Who  is  going  ? 
— all  of  you?' ' 

Everyone  seemed  willing  to  fall  into  Mrs.  Lilling- 
stone's  plan,  which  willingness,  it  must  be  remarked, 
was  by  no  means  an  event  of  daily  occurrence. 
There  were  so  many  whims  and  wills  to  be  consulted 
at  Lillingstone,  that  it  was  no  uncommon  case  for  so 
much  time  to  be  wasted  in  debate  or  dispute,  as  to 
leave  none  for  the  execution  of  the  scheme  finally 
adopted. 

"  Will  not  papa  take  some  tea  ?  "  asked  Katty,  as 
Alfred  applied  for  a  fourth  cup.  "No  one  answered. 
Mr.  Lillingstone' s  habits  were  proverbially  erratic. 
Dinner  was  the  only  meal  which  he  regularly 
honoured  with  his  presence,  and  he  was  never  waited 
for  if  he  came  not  at  the  second  ringing  of  the  great 
bell. 

" I'll  go  and  see!"  cried  Mildred,  dropping  her 
spoon  on  the  tray  with  a  clatter  that  brought  the 
flush  once  more  to  her  mother's  pallid  cheeks ;  and 
away  she  rushed  like  the  wind  on  a  March  morning. 
She  came  back  before  Mrs.  Lillingstone  had  recovered 
her  composure: — "No,  Katty;  he's  in  the  study, 


22  THE    LILLINGSTONES. 

very  sleepy,  and  lie  scolded  me  for  disturbing 
him." 

"No  wonder,"  retorted  Bertha,  "if  you  hurst 
upon  him  in  your  usual  boisterous  fashion  !  " 

The  others  left  the  room  to  prepare  for  their  walk. 
Bertha  lingered. 

"  Mamma,  when  shall  we  have  a  governess  again? 
Mildred  and  the  children  are  being  ruined.  Helen 
does  literally  nothing  from  one  week  to  another; 
and  there  are  so  many  branches  of  study  I  wish  to 
pursue." 

Mrs.  Lillingstone  looked  annoyed.  Again  the  red 
flush  mantled  brow  and  cheek,  and  the  thin  white 
fingers  moved  nervously  in  the  fringe  of  her  shawl. 
"Bertha,  my  dear!  it  is  useless  to  worry  about  a 
governess !  Papa  says  you  must  do  without  one : 
Katty  must  teach  you." 

"Kattyhas  no  authority;  and  besides — "began 
Bertha,  but  her  mamma  said,  "My  dear!  I  cannot 
enter  on  the  subject  now,  I  am  so  weak  and  nervous. 
Pray  go  and  prepare  for  your  walk,  or  the  others  will 
have  to  wait  for  you." 

"  Ah !  Mildred  has  upset  you  with  her  noises  and 
har  abruptness,"  said  Bertha,  as  unwillingly  she 
went  away  to  her  room- 
There  were  fewer  clashings  during  that  evening's 
walk  than  might  have  been  expected.  Helen  and 
Mildred  both  loved  beautiful  scenery,  and  they 
strolled  amicably,  arm-in-arm,  over  the  short,  thy  my 


THE   UNBIDDEN   GUEST.  23 

turf,  watching,  almost  in  silence,  the  rich  red  light 
on  the  dark  pines  that  skirted  the  solemn  hills,  and 
the  golden  streak  that  heaved  and  quivered  far  away, 
as  the  sun  went  down  on  the  restless,  surging  sea- 
water.  Katharine  and  Alfred  enjoyed  the  quiet 
ramble  and  their  pleasant  converse ;  while  Eertha 
strolled  apart,  now  and  then  joining  them  with  some 
particular  question  or  observation.  The  sun  had 
gone  down  long  before  the  walk  through  the  winding 
lanes  was  over ;  and  as  they  crossed  the  upland  heath 
that  almost  skirted  their  own  grounds,  they  saw  the 
young  May-moon,  shining  like  a  bow  of  silver  in 
the  clear,  calm,  nightfall  sky.  Yenus  was  lustrous 
on  the  western  horizon,  and  a  few  pale  stars  gleamed 
faintly  in  the  zenith.  They  quickened  their  steps 
lest  their  mamma  should  be  anxious,  and  lest  their 
papa  should  bethink  himself  of  the  drawing-room 
and  music,  and,  finding  his  daughters  still  absent, 
nurse  up  his  wrath  against  them. 

Mildred  flung  open  the  side  wicket  that  led  into 
the  garden,  and  Eertha  chid  her  for  her  violence; 
but  the  others  were  drinking  in  the  calm  beauty  of 
the  hour,  and  they  passed  on  to  the  house  in  silence. 
Mildred  interrupted  Eertha' s  lecture  unceremo- 
niously. She  saw  a  white  pony  fastened  near  the 
sido  entrance,  and  she  knew  it  belonged  to  the  doctor 
at  Sandmouth. 

" Mamma  is  worse!"  she  cried;  and,  shaking 
herself  from  Eertha,  who  would  have  held  her  back, 


24  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

she  flew  into  the  house.  In  the  wide,  gloomy  hall, 
there  was  a  single  lamp  hurning  on  the  floor,  as  if  set 
down  by  some  one  in  urgent  haste.  Mildred  rushed  on 
to  the  drawing-room ;  but  there  was  no  one  there,  and 
no  light ;  so  she  hurried  to  the  dining-room,  where 
there  were  candles ;  and  that,  too,  was  deserted : 
only  Mr.  Parson's  hat  and  whip  lay  on  the  table, 
testifying  to  his  presence  in  the  house. 

Again  Mildred  crossed  the  hall,  and  she  lingered 
in  fear  of  she  knew  not  what.  Presently  came  one 
of  the  servants,  a  young  girl,  who  had  been  lately 
taken  to  help  the  cook,  aad  Mildred  cried,  with  a 
beating  heart,  "Oh  Ann!  what  is  it?  where  is 
mamma?" 

"In  the  study,  Miss  Milly,"  said  the  girl.  She 
looked  too  awe-stricken  to  say  more.  Mildred  saw 
the  white  face  and  the  awed  aspect,  as  the  lamp  on 
the  floor  flickered  and  flashed  in  the  draught  of  the 
open  doors,  and  she  shuddered  and  crept,  trembling, 
down  the  long  inner  passage,  till  she  came  to  the  baize- 
covered  door  of  the  study.  It  was  ajar,  and  she  stood 
for  a  minute  or  more,  too  frightened  to  go  in :  then 
she  heard  sounds  of  bitter  weeping,  and  Mr.  Parson's 
voice,  saying  something  that  was  meant  to  be  conso- 
latory. Unable  to  bear  the  suspense,  she  went 
suddenly  in :  all  the  rest  were  there.  Even  Walter, 
and  little  Alice,  in  her  nurse's  arms,  with  her 
night-gown  on,  and  wrapped  hastily  in  a  large 
ghawl.  The  child  had  been  taken  from  her  cot,  from 


THE  UNBIDDEN  GUEST.  25 

her  rosy,  innocent  slumber,  into  the  presence  of 
death. 

Alfred's  arms  were  round  his  mother,  who  was 
gasping,  rather  than  sobbing,  on  her  son's  shoulder. 
Katty  and  Helen  were  weeping  unrestrainedly,  their 
tears  falling  unheeded,  more  like  rain  than  ordinary 
tears  !  Eertha  stood  cold,  white,  and  motionless,  as 
if  frozen  on  the  spot;  and  on  the  couch,  by  the 
library  table,  lay  Mr.  Lillingstone,  never  again  to 
rise  and  speak  to  wife,  or  child,  or  friend ! 

The  fine  manly  form  lay  there,  as  if  wrapped  in 
quiet  slumber :  the  dark  piercing  eyes  were  closed, 
never  more  to  open  till  the  Resurrection  morning : 
the  dust  was  ready  to  mingle  with  its  parent-dust ; 
the  spirit  had  returned  to  the  God  who  gave  it. 

All  alone  and  troubled,  he  had  been  musing  there 
when  the  summons  came  : — "The  Master  is  come, 
and  calleth  for  THEE."  Often  before  had  the 
Master  called,  and  His  loving  voice  had  been  un- 
heeded ;  but  the  unbidden  guest,  the  pale  messenger, 
who  came  now,  brooked  no  delay,  no  temporising! 
And  Mildred,  as  she  stood  for  the  first  time  in  the 
presence  of  the  dead,  remembered  that  it  was 
written — "  Therefore,  be  ye  also  ready ;  for  in  such 
an  hour  as  ye  think  not  the  Son  of  Man  cometh ! " 


26  THE  LILLINGSTONES, 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE     SCENE     CHANGES. 

ONE  dull,  chilly  afternoon,  in  the  beginning  of 
October,  Katharine  and  Alfred  Lillingstone  were 
sitting  together,  looking  out  upon  the  quiet,  clean 
High  Street  of  the  little  country  town  of  Oldminster. 
Everything  around  them  was  in  the  direst  confu- 
sion :  the  carpet  hastily  thrown  down,  without 
regard  to  the  peculiarities  of  recesses;  the  table, 
roughly  cleared  at  one  end,  and  at  the  other  piled 
with  books,  boxes,  portfolios,  and  one  or  two  articles 
that  seemed  strangely  out  of  place,  inasmuch  as 
they  belonged  to  the  culinary  department ;  and  the 
high  antique  mantelshelf  encumbered  with  as  many 
small  useful  and  ornamental  chattels  as  it  could 
possibly  be  persuaded  to  accommodate. 

Katharine  looked  very  weary  and  dispirited.  Her 
black  dress  was  dusty  and  torn,  and  her  bright 
flowing  curls  were  hidden  away  under  a  net,  as  if 
their  owner  wished  to  be  as  practical  and  as  un- 
adorned as  possible.  The  shadow  of  care  that  had 
rested  on  her  brow  in  the  pleasant  school-room  at 


THE  SCENE  CHAHGES.  27 

Lillingstone  was  deepened  now,  as  she  lay  back  in 
an  arm-chair,  her  hands  crossed  listlessly  in  her  lap, 
and  her  head  bent  forward,  the  very  personification 
of  mental  and  physical  exhaustion.  Alfred,  too, 
seemed  jaded  and  worn ;  but  his  whole  aspect  was 
less  crushed  and  hopeless  than  poor  Katty's.  He 
sat  erect,  with  his  lips  resolutely  compressed,  and 
his  dark  eyes  flashing  with  some  hidden  thought  as 
he  glanced  round  the  dull  comfortless  room  —  a 
thought  that  related  unmistakably  to  the  renewal 
of  hope,  to  energy  fresh-born,  and  to  a  purpose 
both  settled  and  definite  in  the  boy's  half  sorrowful, 
half  joyous  heart. 

"  Katty !"  he  said  presently,  as  his  gaze  fell  on 
his  sister's  pale  weary  face;  "you  are  tired  to 
death,  and  no  wonder !  Here  you  have  been  doing 
the  work  of  mistress  and  three  housemaids  com- 
bined since  six  o'clock  this  morning.  Why  does 
not  Bertha  see  about  tea  ?  We  should  all  be  much 
the  better  for  it." 

"  Bertha  is  busy  in  the  drawing-room  ;  she  wants 
to  finish  there  before  mamma,  and  Helen,  and  the 
children  come.  I  do  not  think  she  would  like  to  be 
disturbed  even  if  tea  were  on  the  table." 

"Never  mind  what  she  would  like;  the  question 
of  like  and  dislike  is  not  to  be  mooted  by  any  of  us 
just  yet.  What  we  must  do,  and  how  we  shall  do 
it  best  and  quickest,  is  all  that  concerns  us  at  present. 
I  shall  go  and  tell  her  we  want  tea." 


28  THE  LILLINGSTONES. 

Straightway  lie  departed  to  the  drawing-room, 
where  he  found  Bertha,  who  in  some  incomprehen- 
sible way  had  managed  to  keep  herself  and  her  attire 
in  presentable  order.  She  was  daintily  dusting  the 
books,  and  arranging  them  in  due  order  on  the  shelves. 
" Bertha!"  he  said,  winningly,  "do  come  and  see 
about  a  cup  of  tea  for  poor  Katty  and  me!  "We 
have  had  no  real  dinner,  and  Kate  is  so  worn  out 
that  I  really  think  she  will  knock  up  unless  she  has 
something  or  other  to  revive  her.  I  don't  believe 
we  could  find  a  glass  of  wine  if  we  tried." 

"I  will  come  when  I  have  finished  what  I  am 
doing ;  but  it  is  impossible,  you  know,  to  attend  to 
two  things  at  once,"  replied  Bertha,  with  her  usual 
cold  sweetness  of  tone.  But  in  another  moment  she 
had  descended  from  the  chair  on  which  she  had 
been  standing,  and,  duster  in  hand,  came  down  to 
terra  firma.  Alfred  hoped  and  believed  that,  for 
once,  she  was  going  to  consult  the  convenience  of 
others;  but  he  was  speedily  undeceived:  she  only 
changed  her  position  in  order  to  regard  with  a  more 
critical  eye  the  result  of  her  labours,  and  she  ap- 
pealed forthwith  to  her  brother  as  to  whether  the 
Humes,  and  the  Robertsons,  or  the  Blackwoods 
looked  better  on  the  second  shelf  than  on  the  third. 

"  Do  not  be  absurd !  "  replied  Alfred,  impatiently. 
"  Where  is  the  sense  of  arranging  books  and  orna- 
ments when  there  is  not  another  room  in  the  house 
fit  to  sit  down  in?" 


THE  SCENE   CHANGES.  29 

"At  least  this  room  is  fit  to  sit  down  in;  and 
when  the  fire  burns  np  everything  will  be  com- 
plete. We  can  have  tea  here  properly  when  mamma 
comes,"  returned  Bertha,  complacently. 

"  And  that  will  be  two  hours  hence !  Yery  well ; 
if  I  have  to  call  for  smelling-salts  and  sal  volatile 
on  Katty's  behalf  you  will  have  yourself  to  thank 
for  it." 

"  Cannot  Sarah  get  tea  ?"  asked  Bertha,  angrily. 
"What  is  the  use  of  a  servant  in  the  kitchen  if 
we  are  to  prepare  our  meals  ourselves? " 

"  She  is  not  in  the  kitchen ;  she's  in  chaos !  It 
is  very  clear  you  have  avoided  the  back  settlements 
to-day,  or  you  would  at  least  understand  Sarah's 
position.  Hampers,  boxes,  pots,  pans,  rubbish,  and 
hay,  and  everything  that  goes  to  make  up  a  medley, 
is  tumbled  into  that  unfortunate  place  that  ought  to 
be  the  kitchen !  Well,  good-bye,  Bertha !  thank  you 
for  arranging  those  books  so  geometrically !  Quite 
in  accordance  with  the  laws  of  perspective,  are  they 
not?  And  thank  you  for  washing  all  those  gim- 
cracks ;  it  does  me  good,  and  refreshes  me  after  my 
hard  day's  work,  to  know  that  Psyche  has  a  clean 
face  if  I  haven't!" 

He  went  back  to  Katharine.  "Well,  Katty,  she 
will  not  stir !  The  drawing-room  is  ready  to  receive 
company,  and  you  may  lay  your  hand  immediately 
on  any  volume  you  want,  if  that's  any  comfort  to 
you !  Don't  now,  Katty  dear !  don't  look  so  mourn- 


30  THE  LILLINGSTONES. 

fill !  I  know  there's  enough  to  make  us  all  miser- 
able ;  but  crying  our  eyes  out  won't  mend  the  matter. 
We  have  lost  our  old  position,  and  we  must  find  a 
new  one,  and  make  it  as  comfortable  and  as  agree- 
able as  we  can.  Come !  look  up,  Katty ;  you'll  feel 
better  to-morrow ! " 

"Oh I  Alfred,  I  am  dreadfully  ashamed  of  my- 
self; I  meant  to  be  so  strong!  Even  leaving  dear 
old  Lillingstone  did  not  seem  to  be  so  very  bad ;  but 
here,  everything  looks  so  wretched,  so  sordid !  This 
house  will  never  seem  like  home,  or  feel  like  it 
either.  "What  can  we  do  with  this  room  ?  It  is  the 
dining-room,  you  know :  did  you  ever  see  anything 
so  dark  and  low  and  ugly ;  so  utterly  miserable  and 
fbrlorn?" 

"  My  dear  Katty,  an  apartment  in  Buckingham 
Palace  would  look  miserable  and  forlorn  if  it  were 
left  in  this  state  of  confusion.  Bare  boards  and 
doubled-up  carpets,  undraped  windows,  and  decan- 
ters and  sauce-tureens  on  the  chimney-piece,  would 
give  a  dolorous  aspect  to  any  room.  Besides,  dear, 
you  are  dreadfully  fagged ;  you  have  been  working 
all  day  to  make  the  bed-rooms  habitable  with  only 
my  incompetent  self  and  poor  awkward  Milly  to 
help  you !  By  the  way,  where  is  Milly  ?" 

"Here!"  cried  a  loud  cheering  voice,  pushing 
open  the  door;  "  and  here  is  something  better  than 
Milly — a  good  cup  of  tea  for  tired  folk  !  " 

And  Milly  came  forward  in  a  very  decided  state 


THE   SCENE   CHANGES.   •  31 

of  deshabille,  but  bearing  a  small  tray,  on  which 
were  two  cups  of  fragrant  steaming  tea,  and  a  plate 
of  nice  buttered  toast.  She  placed  one  cup  in  poor 
Katty's  cold,  nerveless  hand,  and  the  other  in 
Alfred's  ready  grasp,  and  then  began  to  watch  them 
as  a  physician  would  watch  the  effect  of  his  potion. 
"  It  will  do  you  no  end  of  good,  Katty !"  she  said, 
as  she  saw  her  sister  languidly  stiring  the  contents 
of  her  cup.  "  Come,  eat  some  toast,  and  let  me  see 
you  enjoy  yourself  for  a  few  minutes !" 

"Zam  enjoying  myself,  I  assure  you,  Milly!" 
said  Alfred.  "  I  never  remember  a  cup  of  tea  tast- 
ing so  good  before ;  but  surely  you  did  not  make  it  ?" 

" Indeed,  but  I  did!  I  don't  know  who  else 
could  have  found  time !  Sarah  is  unpacking  hampers 
yet,  and  she  is  the  least  bit  cross ;  and  it  was  not  to 
be  expected  that'  Bertha  would  come  down ;  so  I 
found  the  bellows  in  the  clothes-basket,  and  I  blew 
the  fire  and  made  the  kettle  boil ;  and  I  found  some 
tea,  and  the  tea-pot,  and  some  cups ;  but  I  could  not 
find  the  toasting-fork;  however,  I  managed  very 
well  .without  it." 

"  And  burnt  your  hand ! "  said  Alfred,  taking  her 
long,  dark  fingers  gently  in  his  own. 

"  Yes  !  just  like  me.  I  really  have  some  asinine 
propensities.  One  of  them  is  an  infantile  forgetful- 
ness  of  the  properties  of  hot  iron.  It  never  occurred 
to  me  that  the  bars  of  the  grate  would  burn  if  I 
touched  them,  but  they  did ! " 


82  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

"  The  ordeal  by  fire  would  certainly  not  suit  you, 
then !  But,  Milly,  what  other  mischief  did  you  do  ?  " 

' '  I  upset  the  kettle  on  the  hearth,  and  I  might 

have  scalded  the  cat,  and 1  am  very  sorry,  Katty, 

but  I  dropped  one  cup  as  I  was  washing  it,  and  it 
broke ! " 

Kate  smiled  faintly ;  the  good  tea  was  doing  its 
work.  "  Never  mind,  dear  Milly,  I  am  afraid  there 
will  be  more  important  breakages  before  the  un- 
packing and  the  settling  is  over.  It  was  very  nice 
and  thoughtful  of  you  to  trouble  yourself  about  us ; 
the  more  so,  because  such  little  matters  are  quite  out 
of  your  way." 

1 l  They  have  been,  Katty,  but  I  mean  to  be  useful 
now.  I  think  being  poor  will  do  me  good.  I  shall 
try  to  leave  off  being  careless ;  you  must  scold  me 
well  whenever  I  begin  to  fall  into  my  old  bad  ways. 
]$~ow  I  must  go  and  take  Bertha  some  tea,  but  I  am 
sure  she  will  be  angry  with  me  for  this  torn  frock ; 
and  what  can  I  do  ?  There  are  corners  of  things  all 
ever  the  house,  and  I  have  a  natural  affinity  to  things 
that  catch  hold  and  tear  one !" 

In  a  few  minutes  Mildred  returned  looking  very 
grave,  and  ready  to  replenish  the  empty  cups.  She 
had  unquestionably  received  the  anticipated  scolding. 

"  And  now,"  said  Katty,  considerably  revived; 
"  now  that  you  have  been  waiting  upon  us,  we  ought 
to  wait  upon  you.  Sit  down  in  this  chair  while  I  go 
into  the  kitchen  on  your  behalf." 


THE   SCj&XS   CH^fGES.  33 

"No,  indeed,  Katty,  you'll  do  nothing  of  the 
kind !  I  am  going  to  give  Sarah  some  tea,  and  then 
I  will  take  excellent  care  of  myself,"  and  she  was 
Dut  of  the  room  and  out  of  hearing  before  Kate  was 
provided  with  a  rejoinder. 

"  Dear,  good  Milly ! "  said  Alfred;  "  she  has  given 
us  the  first  sunbeam  in  our  dingy  new  home.  I 
really  believe  she  never  thinks  of  herself.  I  dare  say 
at  this  moment  she  is  emptying  the  pot  for  Sarah, 
and  contenting  herself  with  the  second  watering!" 

Which  was  precisely  the  truth.  Mildred  cared 
very  little  for  her  own  creature  comforts.  To  see 
the  tired  servant  gratefully  drink  the  warm  strong 
tea  was  better  than  imbibing  nectar  herself.  Care- 
less, thoughtless,  wild,  and  sometimes  idle,  Milly 
certainly  was;  but  selfish  never!  And  every  now 
and  then  she  mourned  over  continually  recurring 
mishaps,  and  made  up  her  mind  to  be  steadier,  and 
quicker,  and  more  like  good,  thoughtful  Katty,  and 
the  managing,  correct  Eertha.  Poor,  heedless  Milly ! 
she  forgot  her  resolution  the  next  hour,  and  then 
submitted  with  the  meekness  of  a  little  child  to 
Eertha' s  angry  lecture,  or,  worse  still,  to  her  keen, 
stinging  sarcasms. 

"  Now  then,  Katty,"  said  Alfred,  when  they 
were  alone  again,  '  '  let  us  look  our  position  full  in 
the  face.  "We  are  no  longer  the  Lillingstones  of 
Lillingstone ;  but  in  spite  of  adverse  circumstances 
we  mil  prove  ourselves  true  and  worthy  Lilling- 


34  THE  LILLINGSTONES. 

stones,  worthy  of  our  name  and  of  our  race !  If  I 
understand  things  aright,  we  ought  to  have  turned 
out  long  ago.  The  mischief  hegan  with  those  mines 
in  poor  grandpapa's  time,  and  poor  dear  papa  tried 
to  mend  matters  hy  railway  speculations;  hut — " 
arid  Alfred's  voice  hecame  husky  and  unsteady — "it 
was  not  to  he !  Oh,  why  did  he  keep  all  the  misery 
to  himself !  I  was  hut  a  hoy ;  what  more  am  I 
now?  But  I  was  his  eldest  son — after  him,  the 
head  of  the  family — and  I  might  have  devised 
something  hefore  it  came  to  the  worst !" 

"  And  now  Lillingstone  is  gone — that  is,  virtually 
gone  from  us,  for  ever ! " 

"No,  Kate!  no!  Please  God,  we  will  have  it 
again!  It  must  he  a  long  time  first;  hut  I  will 
work  and  toil  and  never  weary  till  dear,  darling 
mamma  goes  hack  to  the  dear  old  house,  where  she 
came  a  hride  twenty  years  ago,  and  where  you  and 
I  and  all  of  us  were  horn." 

"And  what  will  you  do,  Alfred?" 

"I  really  cannot  say  yet.  I  suppose  I  am  fit  for 
very  little  at  present.  I  must  finish  my  education,  to 
do  which  I  must  get  the  Scholarship  without  fail !  " 

"Yes,  yes!  Of  course  you  will,  you  must,  he 
successful  in  that:  the  advantages  of  Pounder's 
Kin  is  the  great  thing  that  reconciles  me  to  Old- 
minster.  And  then  the  house  heing  our  own,  and 
so  roomy,  and,  I  suppose,  convenient — I  am  thankful 
it  is  left  to  us,  though  so  much  else  is  gone.  After 


THE   SCENE   CHANGES.  35 

all,  I  dare  say  it  is  an  excellent  thing  that  mamma 
decided  on  living  at  Oldminster." 

"No  donbt  of  it.  I  encouraged  the  idea  from 
the  very  first.  I  did  not  like  to  propose  it,  because 
it  seemed  selfish,  I  being  the  person  most  interested. 
The  Pounder's  Kin  would  be  of  little  avail  had  not 
my  mother  chosen  to  reside  in  the  town." 

"And  when  is  the  Scholarship  to  be  gained?" 

"  Next  Midsummer  twelvemonths.  I  wish  it 
were  sooner :  it  seems  a  long  time  to  wait  before  I 
can  take  the  first  step  in  the  road  I  purpose  to 
travel :  but  I  shall  only  be  eighteen  then." 

Mildred  rejoined  them  just  then,  and  she  wanted 
to  know  whither  the  road  alluded  to  was  to  lead  her 
brother. 

Alfred  explained.  She  listened  with  glowing 
cheeks  and  flashing  eyes,  and  burst  forth  at  last — 
"Yes,  yes!  I  see,  Alfred!  the  time  is  come  for  us 
to  act  it  out !  It  must  be  only  poetry  no  longer  I " 

"What  can  you  mean,  Milly?"  asked  Kate; 
"you  are  as  mysterious  as  a  Pythoness,  and  almost 
as  enthusiastic!" 

"Not  at  all!  that  is,  I'm  not  mysterious;  for  I 
do  feel  running  over  with  enthusiasm :  but  I  forgot, 
you  do  not  know  how  I  have  been  unpacking  all 
day,  and  saying  to  myself — 

'Not  enjoyment  and  not  sorrow 

Is  our  destined  end  and  way ; 

But  to  act  that  each  to-niorrow 

Find  us  farther  than  to-day ! ' " 

D  2 


36  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

"Farther  than  what,  Milly?"  asked  Kate  won- 
deringly.  She  had  no  conception  of  the  strong, 
high  thoughts  that  had  all  day  long  been  thronging 
Mildred's  mind.  Alfred  little  dreamed  how,  as  she 
handed  cups  and  saucers  to  Eertha,  who  was  ar- 
ranging china,  all  morning,  she  was  schooling  her 
own  excitable,  impetuous  nature,  and  trying  to  see 
clearly  the  path  which  duty  called  her  to  follow. 
Bertha  merely  thought  she  was  stupid,  as  well  as 
awkward,  and  scolded  her,  for  want  of  something 
else  to  say. 

"Partner  in  doing  right — farther  in  goodness,  in 
duty,  and  therefore  farther  in  happiness,"  replied 
Mildred. 

"But  how  can  we  be  sure  about  our  duty?" 
asked  Kate  earnestly.  She  forgot  that  Mildred  was 
only  fourteen,  and  she  five  years  older.  Milly  was 
doubtful  what  to  answer,  and  she  looked  to  Alfred 
for  help,  but  he  was  silent ;  and  at  last  she  said  very 
gravely,  "  I  think  if  we  do  the  thing  that  is  straight 
before  us — that  comes  to  us  as  the  day's  work, 
whatever  it  may  be — that  is  our  duty." 

"  But  suppose  it  is  a  wrong  thing  ?" 

"Then,  of  course,  we  must  not  do  it;  but  the 
things  that  come  to  us,  without  choice  of  our  own, 
are  seldom  wrong,  I  think,  though  we  may  make 
them  wrong  by  the  way  we  do  them..  It  is  the 
things  we  seek  out  for  ourselves,  and  to  please  our- 
selves, that  generally  get  us  into  trouble." 


THE   SCENE   CHANGES.  37 

"And" we  can  ask  God's  guidance,"  said  Alfred, 
much  struck  with  what  Mildred  put  forth. 

"  I  never  thought  of  that,"  replied  Mildred. 
"Do  you  think  we  may  ask  His  direction  in  little, 
common  things?  May  I  ask  Him  to  make  me 
thoughtful  and  tidy,  like  Bertha?" 

"  Don't  ask  Him  to  make  you  like  any  human 
"being,"  quickly  returned  her  brother;  "but  I  am 
sure  you  may  ask  God's  aid  in  all  your  difficulties, 
ordinary  and  extraordinary ;  and  till  you  do  ask  it, 
and  seek  it,  Milly,  you  will  never  be  really  better 
for  any  length  of  time." 

"I  see,"  was  Milly' s  subdued  answer.  A  new 
light  was  breaking  in  on  her  mind ;  and  Katty,  too, 
felt  as  if  she  had  suddenly  found  a  key  to  many  a 
knotty  problem  of  her  young  life  which  hitherto 
she  had  vainly  tried  to  solve. 

The  evening  was  fast  closing  in,  and  there  was 
no  more  leisure  for  converse  :  it  was  time  to  prepare 
for  Mrs.  Lillingstone's  arrival,  and  they  all  went  to 
the  drawing-room,  where  a  bright  fire  was  burning, 
the  curtains  drawn,  and  the  glass  and  china  of  the 
tea  equipage  reflecting  the  flickering  flames  and  the 
ruddy  glow  from  the  hearth.  The  two  girls,  and 
even  Alfred,  confessed  that  Bertha's  labours  were 
crowned  with  complete  success — though,  by-the-bye, 
Bertha's  share  in  the  great  work  had  been  entirely 
confined  to  what  Alfred  called  "titivation."  And 
Bertha  herself  had  changed  her  dress,  and  smoothed 


38  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

her  silken  hair,  and  made  herself  as  gay  as  her  deep 
mourning  would  allow. 

"Milly!"  she  exclaimed,  "do  go  and  take  off 
that  ragged  frock  before  mamma  comes,  and  pray 
do  something  to  your  hair;  and  you  must  excuse 
me  if  I  say  that  your  hands  and  face  would  be  the 
better  for  a  little  clean  water."  She  glanced  at 
Katty's  soiled  dress,  but  said  nothing. 

"Well,  I  am  horribly  dirty!"  said  Mildred  in- 
genuously, examining  her  hands.  "Bertha,  your 
advice  is  good ;  I  will  take  it." 

"And  I  will  go  with  you,"  interposed  Katty. 
"  I  shall  do  no  more  to-night :  I  may  as  well  attend 
to  my  toilet  before  mamma  and  Helen  come." 

And  twining  their  arms  round  each  other,  the 
two  sisters  left  the  room.  Alfred  and  Bertha  were 
alone.  !N"ever  had  Alfred  seen  his  sister  look  lovelier. 
She  was  not  wearied  and  dispirited  like  Kate.  The 
soft,  bright  pink  had  not  faded  from  her  cheek,  and 
her  small,  slight  figure  did  not  droop  ungracefully 
as  she  sat  by  the  fire,  glancing  round  the  room, 
evidently  well  satisfied  with  her  day's  work.  Her 
black  dress  suited  her — it  contrasted  so  well  with 
the  snowy  whiteness  of  her  skin ;  and  the  rippling 
braids  of  her  shining  hair  caught  a  richer  tint  from 
the  firelight  glow.  Her  first  words,  however,  dis- 
pleased him. 

"I  never  in  my  life  saw  anyone  so  untidy  and 
BO  unhandy  as  Milly." 


THE   SCENE   CHANGES.  39 

"  She  seemed  to  me  the  handiest  person  in  the 
house  when  she  brought  us  our  tea  a  little  while 
ago.  Bertha,  you  underrate  Milly.  She  is  worth 
more  than  you  and  I  put  together.  She  will  make  a 
glorious  woman,  when  she  has  conquered  her  girlish, 
childish  faults." 

"  Ah  I  when  she  has!  But  when  will  that  be? 
It  is  easier  to  confess  to  bad  habits  than  to  cure 
one's  self  of  them." 

"  It  is  something  to  confess  them,  Bertha ;  and 
instead  of  discussing  Hilly 's  foibles,  do  you  not 
think  we  had  better  investigate  our  own.  Reforma- 
tion, like  charity,  must  begin  at  home.  There 
are  other  things  besides  roughness  and  untidiness 
that  mar  a  woman's  character;  but  I  will  leave 
you,  for  I  mean  to  follow  my  sisters'  example,  and 
attend  to  my  personal  appearance.  Having  con- 
cluded my  labours  as  carpenter,  light  porter,  and 
upholsterer,  I  may  as  well  resume  the  gentleman !" 

The  young  people  had  scarcely  reassembled  when 
the  sound  of  wheels  was  heard,  and  they  hastened 
to  meet  their  mother  and  Helen  and  the  two  little 
ones.  Alfred  led  his  mother  into  the  house,  and 
placed  her  on  the  sofa,  which  had  been  drawn  up  to 
the  fire,  while  Kate  gently  unfastened  the  cloaks 
and  shawls  in  which  the  invalid  was  wrapped. 
Helen  sank  on  the  first  chair  she  came  to  ;  she  had 
suffered  more  than  any  one,  except  her  mother,  at 
leaving  Lillingstone ;  and  during  the  long  journey 


40  THE   LILLINGSTONES, 

the  cliildren  had  harassed  her,  and  her  mother's 
silent  grief  had  tortured  her,  and  she  was  wearied 
exceedingly.  Life  had  been  to  her  a  fairy  tale 
— a  beautiful  poem — a  lovely  romance.  It  was  so 
no  longer ;  it  had  become  a  hard,  practical,  pitiless 
reality,  and  the  young  girl  shrank  back  trembling 
from  the  discipline  from  which  there  was  no  escape. 
She  felt  too  hopeless  to  weep — too  tired  to  talk — 
and  almost  too  crushed  to  think ;  and  when  Mildred 
came  and  offered  to  show  her  to  her  room,  the  effort 
of  moving  and  answering  was  painful  beyond  con- 
ception. 

Mrs.  Lillingstone  was  very  calm  and  quiet.  She 
praised  Eertha  for  her  industry  in  making  things  so 
complete,  and  hoped  she  was  not  greatly  fatigued ; 
and  Eertha  smiled,  and  declared  herself  quite  ready 
to  begin  the  same  thing  over  again  next  day.  Katty 
could  not  help  feeling  that  her  own  toil  and  fatigue 
were  rather  overlooked;  and  Alfred  thought  his 
aching  limbs  might  have  been  considered,  as  well  as 
Eertha' s  soft  white  hands,  that  really  had  known 
very  little  of  the  day's  drudgery.  Mildred  actually 
believed  that  she  had  been  more  of  a  hindrance  than 
a  help,  and  though  she  felt  extremely  tired,  she  was 
quite  inclined  to  scold  herself  for  laziness. 

JSTo  one  seemed  disposed  to  talk  much.  The 
children  were  cross  and  sleepy,  and  Mildred  felt  a 
strong  inclination  to  doze,  and  Kate  could  scarcely 
repress  the  fit  of  yawning  she  had  caught  from  little 


THE   SCENE   CHANGES.  41 

Alice.  Bertha  proposed  that  everybody  should  go 
to  bed  early,  and  Helen  rose  at  once  as  if  it  would 
be  a  relief  to  break  up  the  party. 

" Stay  one  minute,  Helen  dear!  do  not  go,  Bertha!" 
interposed  Alfred.  "I  have  something  to  say  to 
mamma — to  propose  to  you  all !  I  have  been  thinking, 
mamma  dear,  if  you  do  not  object,  and  if  my  sisters 
would  like  it,  it  would  be  a  pleasant  thing  to  have 
family  prayers  every  night  before  we  separate ;  and 
if  we  begin  to-night,  it  would  make  us  feel  more 
reconciled  to  our  new  home,  and  we  should  begin 
the  new  life  that  we  must  lead  here  in  a  good  and 
hopeful  way." 

"  I  do  not  object,  my  dear,"  replied  Mrs.  Lilling- 
stone,  "and  I  am  sure  your  sisters  will  approve  of 
the  plan."  Katty  quietly  signified  her  entire  appro- 
bation ;  Helen  looked  up  wearily,  without  speaking ; 
Bertha  thought  it  was  very  right  and  proper  to  have 
family  prayers ;  she  had  even  thought  of  proposing 
it  herself  when  they  were  settled;  but  they  had 
better  not  sit  up  any  longer  that  night.  Mildred 
called  out,  "  I  know  where  there  is  a  Bible !  "  and 
rushed  away  to  find  it. 

She  soon  returned,  and  Sarah  was  summoned ;  and 
then  the  young  man  opened  Mildred's  little  school- 
room Bible,  and  read  the  27th  Psalm.  But  no  ray 
of  light  stole  over  Mrs.  Lillingstonc's  faded  face, 
though  she  raised  her  head  when  her  son  read  the 
closing  verse — "Wait  on  the  Lord;  be  of  good 


42  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

courage,  and  He  shall  strengthen  thine  heart ;  wait, 
I  say,  on  the  Lord."  The  prayer  that  followed  was 
very  short  and  simple,  and  rather  disjointed,  and 
nervously  tittered.  But  when  they  rose  up,  some  of 
them  felt  as  if  the  promise  were  beginning  to  be 
fulfilled  already.  They  had  waited  on  the  Lord, 
and  their  hearts  were  strengthened ! 


"EN  AVANT!"  43 


CHAPTER  IV. 
"EN  AVANT!" 

SUNDAY  came — the  first  Sunday  at  Oldminster.  It 
was  a  calm,  sweet  day — such  as  often,  brightens  the 
fading  beauty  of  the  waning  year.  "The  crimson 
and  golden  leaves  waved  gaily  in  the  dying  wood- 
laAds ;  and  the  soft,  sober  sunshine  slept  peacefully 
on  the  quaint  old  houses  in  the  town,  on  the  grey 
ruined  cloisters,  on  the  grand  old  minster  itself,  and 
on  the  quiet  churchyard  sloping  down  to  the  river's 
brink — the  " God's  acre"  of  that  ancient  country 
town,  where  the  dead  lay  at  rest  beneath  the  shadow 
of  the  everlasting  hills. 

A  grand  cathedral-like  temple  was  the  ancient 
parish  church  of  Oldminster.  It  was  very  lofty, 
with  a  groined  and  vaulted  roof ;  and  Gothic  arches, 
dim  and  high,  divided  the  long,  shadowy  aisles.  It 
boasted  a  decayed  but  still  beautiful  altar-screen,  a 
"Ladye-chapel,"  some  fine  monuments  of  the  Cru- 
sading era,  and  a  font  of  rare  sculpture  and  great 
antiquity.  Many  of  the  windows,  especially  those 


44  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

at  the  eastern  end,  were  of  stained  glass,  and  many 
a  bright,  soft  hue,  caught  from  the  ruby,  and 
emerald,  and  amethyst  tints  of  the  antique- storied 
easements,  rested  on  the  marble  features  of  the  mail- 
clad  knights  and  ruffled  dames,  who,  side  by  side, 
had  reposed  for  centuries  in  the  venerable  minster. 

While  the  deep-toned  bells  were  yet  chiming, 
Alfred,  with  his  sisters,  Katharine,  Bertha,  and 
Mildred,  and  the  two  children,  came  across  the 
deserted  market-place,  through  the  grey,  mouldering 
cloisters,  and  the  deep  porch  which  led  into  the 
southern  aisle,  to  their  appointed  seat  in  the  sanc- 
tuary. The  church  gradually  filled.  First  came 
Miss  West  and  her  young  ladies,  to  the  number  of 
twenty-seven ;  then  little  Miss  Binks,  the  purveyor 
of  fashions  to  the  female  population  of  Oldminster ; 
and  then  Mr.  Golding,  the  banker,  with  his  hand- 
some wife  and  fine  young  family,  and  many  others ; 
and  each  and  all  had  a  glance  for  the  group  in  the 
pew  by  Sir  Ralph's  monument ;  and  Bertha  became 
quite  indignant  at  the  coolness  with  which  every 
fresh  arrival  turned  to  take  a  survey  of  the  strangers. 
But  presently  the  chiming  ceased,  and  the  "tolling- 
in  bell"  rang  out  its  sharp,  quick  vibrations,  and 
the  congregation  generally  began  to  demean  itself 
with  propriety.  The  large  pew  before  that  occupied 
by  the  Lillingstones  remained  vacant;  but  just 
before  service  commenced,  a  sweet- looking  lady, 
apparently  between  thirty  and  forty  years  of  age, 


"EN  AVANT!  "  45 

entered,  and  took  her  seat,  without  lifting  her  eyes 
to  the  place  where  the  young  ladies  were  sitting. 

The  service  began,  and  there  was  something 
about  it  that  struck  both  Alfred  and  Kate  im- 
mediately :  it  was  not  rattled  through,  as  if  both 
minister  and  people  were  reciting  a  mere  formulaiy, 
that  could  neither  be  omitted,  nor  repeated  with 
anything  like  pleasure ;  nor  was  there  any  of  that 
high-pitched  drawling  which  in  country  places 
sometimes  stands  for  "intoning"  There  was  the 
usual  allowance  of  chanting ;  the  Venite  and  Jubilate 
being  given  in  good  old  Church  of  England  style, 
the  congregation  joining  heartily,  and  the  school 
children  doing  their  best  to  perpetuate  the  musical 
fame  of  Lord  Mornington.  There  were  no  little 
boys  or  irreverent  young  men  clad  in  dirty  surplices  ; 
the  communion  table  was  neither  a  conservatory  nor 
a  fine  lady's  toilet;  and  the  rector  never  dreamed 
of  marching  about  from  desk  to  lectern,  and  from 
lectern  to  faldstool,  or  of  turning  his  back  on  his 
hearers,  or  of  making  bows  to  gold-thread  crosses 
and  gilt  candlesticks ;  but  he  prayed  the  prayers  of 
the  Church  to  which  he  belonged,  and  read  the 
Psalms  and  Lessons,  with  a  devotion  and  an  emphasis 
that  attested  at  once  his  reverence  and  his  regard  for 
the  Holy  "Word  of  God.  The  sermon  was  simple 
and  earnest;  there  was  nothing  about  baptismal 
grace,  or  the  decrees  of  the  Church ;  no  assumption 
of  priestly  authority ;  no  jargon  from  "  the  fathers ;" 


46  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

but  a  clear  and  forcible  setting  forth,  of  the  way  of 
salvation  through.  Jesus  Christ.  The  text  was, 
"I  am  the  Way,  the  Truth,  and  the  Life,"  &c. 
Mildred  listened  as  if  entranced;  Alfred  and  Kate 
with,  breathless  attention ;  Bertha  with  due  decorum 
and  some  curiosity. 

They  walked  home  almost  silently.  Bertha 
opined  that  the  gentle-looking  lady  in  the  large  pew 
was  the  rector's  wife ;  Mildred  remarked  that  she 
had  never  cared  for  the  Litany  before ;  Alfred  and 
Kate  did  not  speak  till  they  stood  together  on  the 
landing  leading  to  their  rooms,  and  then  Alfred 
grasped  his  sister's  hand,  and  in  a  low  voice  said, 
"I  see  it  now,  Katty!  I  see  where  we  were  all 
wrong :  first  of  all,  there  was  no  care  about  religion, 
and  then  the  care  was  of  the  wrong  sort.  Please 
God,  we  will  begin  afresh,  and  do  better !" 

Katharine  returned  the  pressure  of  her  brother's 
hand,  but  she  made  no  answer :  she  was  longing  to 
be  alone;  her  heart  was  full;  the  mists  of  years 
were  rolling  away,  and  the  light  of  the  glorious 
Gospel  was  dawning  on  her  soul.  When  she  had 
shut  herself  in,  she  knelt  down  and  begged  her 
Heavenly  Father  for  Christ's  sake  to  give  her  a 
place  in  the  Christian  Church,  to  own  her  as  His 
child,  and  to  grant  her  grace  and  strength  to  walk 
in  the  ways  of  holiness  to  her  life's  end.  She  could 
not  linger,  for  she  heard  Alice's  voice,  raised  in 
angry  appeal  against  some  one  who  wanted  to  take 


"  EN  AVANT  1  "  47 

off  her  bonnet  and  prepare  her  for  dinner.  Kate 
knew  she  must  go,  for  it  was  Bertha's  clear,  musical 
tones  that  bade  the  child  stand  still ;  and  somehow, 
Bertha's  attentions  to  Alice  always  ended  in  loud 
and  prolonged  crying.  Helen  she  saw  walking  in 
the  garden;  Mildred  had  enough  to  do  to  make 
herself  presentable  at  the  dinner-table.  Alice  began 
to  whine,  so  there  was  nothing  to  be  done  but  to  go 
at  once;  and,  with  a  sigh  for  the  quiet  half-hour 
she  longed  to  secure,  she  went  into  the  next  room, 
where  the  oft-repeated  scene  was  enacting. 

Katharine  gravely  bade  the  little  girl  come  to 
her,  and  chid  her  for  her  naughty  temper,  while 
Bertha  grumbled  at  being  interfered  with,  and 
wished  she  might  be  left  for  once  to  carry  her  point, 
and  Kate  began  to  feel  provoked ;  but  she  controlled 
the  rising  impatience,  and  led  little  Alice  away  to 
her  own  chamber. 

"I  won't  be  naughty  to  you,  Katty!"  said  the 
child,  as  her  sister  began  to  comb  out  her  long, 
curling  hair.  "  I  love  you,  Katty !" 

"And  you  love  Bertha,  too,"  replied  Kate,  stop- 
ping with  a  glance  the  baby-tirade  that  was  tremb- 
ling on  the  quivering  rosy  lips.  "But,  Allie,  my 
pet,  you  must  be  good  to  people,  whether  you  love 
them  or  not.  Now,  hold  that  little  head  still,  and 
I  will  teach  you  a  verse  of  a  pretty  hymn." 

The  little  one  learnt  her  lesson  readily,  for  she 
was  naturally  quick,  and  she  generally  liked  to  do 


48  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

anything  that  sister  Katty  wished ;  and  then  Kate 
talked  to  her  about  the  birds,  and  the  flowers,  and 
the  calm  sunshine  that  was  filling  all  the  blue  dome 
of  the  clear  autumnal  sky  with  its  peaceful  radiance, 
till  the  wayward  displeasure  against  Bertha  was 
charmed  away,  and  the  childish  heart  was  filled 
with  sweet,  serious  thoughts,  and  happy  associations 
of  the  holy  Sabbath-day  with  the  heaven  that  her 
hymn  told  her  was  "  beyond  the  sky." 

The  tall  sister  and  the  tiny  one  went  down  hand- 
in-hand — little  Alice  thinking  that  it  was  nice  to  be 
good,  and  Kate  feeling  that  she  had  taken  one  step, 
though  only  a  little  one,  in  the  path  of  unselfishness 
and  duty,  which  she. had  resolved,  by  God's  grace, 
henceforth  to  tread. 

In  the  afternoon  Sarah  took  the  children  with 
her  to  church,  for  they  were  eager  to  see  the  painted 
windows  again,  and  to  look  at  the  monuments  in  the 
chancel  after  service.  Helen  and  her  mother  dozed 
together  in  the  drawing-room,  and  Bertha  took  her 
book,  which  was  none  other  than  Baxter's  "  Saint's 
Rest,"  into  the  summer-house  at  the  end  of  the 
garden.  So  Kate  and  Alfred  and  Mildred  had  the 
dining-room  to  themselves. 

"And  to-morrow  morning  you  go  to  school?" 
said  Milly. 

'  '  Yes,  Milly ;  to-morrow  morning  I  begin  my 
work.  There  is  a  great  deal  to  be  done,  and  little  time 
to  do  it  in.  I  long  to  be  thoroughly  busy  once  more." 


"  EN  AVAOT !  "  49 

"  And  you  mean  to  get  back  Lillingstone  ?" 

"I  do,  Hilly.  I  will  not  cease  toiling  till 
mamma  and  all  of  you  are  there  once  more." 

"But,  Alfred,  it  will  take  years!" 

"I  know  it,  Milly,  but  I  snail  not  tire.  I  begin 
to-morrow,  and  I  shall  finish  when  I  am  once  more 
master  of  Lillingstone.  My  first  effort  will  be  to 
gain  the  Scholarship ;  then  there  will  be  toil  enough 
at  the  University,  and  then  the  harder  and  more 
prolonged  work  of  manhood,  which  must  never 
slacken  till  the  goal  of  my  aspirations  is  reached." 

"Oh,  Alfred  dear!"  exclaimed  Mildred  with 
genuine  surprise,  "but  surely  the  'goal  of  your 
aspirations'  is  something  better  than  getting  back 
dear  old  Lillingstone?  It  would  be  good  to  get 
that,  very  good ;  but  if  I  were  you  I  would  aim  at 
something  higher  and  nobler  than  mere  possession. 
Why,  you  might  be  a  missionary — perhaps  you 
might  even  be  a  martyr !" 

' '  I  am  afraid  I  have  not  the  martyr  spirit,  Milly. 
One  may  be  killed  by  the  enemies  of  the  truth,  and 
yet  be  no  martyr  at  all ;  and  one  may  be  a  true 
martyr,  and  yet  not  suffer  a  violent  death." 

"I  know  that;  but — but — I  really  don't  know 
how  to  say  what  I  mean ;  only  I  want  you  to  have 
grand  and  noble  aims.  I  should  like  you  to  be  rich 
again,  and  to  have  your  proper  position,  and  I  should 
like  you  to  be  clever  and  learned ;  but  I  should  like 
you  to  be  more  than  I  have  said ! " 


50  THE   ULLINGSTONES. 

" '  Seek  ye  first  the  kingdom  of  God  and  His 
righteousness,  and  all  these  things  shall  be  added 
unto  you/  "  said  Kate,  gently.  "  Alfred  dear !  it  is, 
it  must  be  right  for  you  to  try  to  recover  your  lost 
inheritance ;  but  it  must  not  come  first — the  Scholar- 
ship must  not  be  your  highest  aim  now." 

Alfred  looked  troubled.  "  Oh,  Katty !  you  are  a 
woman.  Men  cannot  altogether  look  at  things  in 
such  a  light ;  they  want  to  succeed,  they  want  to  be 
foremost  in  this  world." 

"  '  The  fashion  of  this  world  passeth  away,'  " 
said  Katharine,  almost  involuntarily;  and  Mildred 
took  up  the  key-note,  and  repeated  solemnly,  "  'Lay 
not  up  for  yourselves  treasures  upon  earth,  where 
moth  and  rust  doth  corrupt,  and  where  thieves 
break  through  and  steal ;  but  lay  up  for  yourselves 
treasures  in  heaven,  where  neither  moth  nor  rust 
doth  corrupt,  and  where  thieves  do  not  break  through 
and  steal;  for  where  your  treasure  is,  there  will 
your  heart  be  also.'  " 

There  was  silence  for  several  minutes  in  the 
quiet  sombre  room ;  the  only  sound  that  broke  the 
stillness  was  the  regular  ticking  of  the  time-piece 
on  the  sideboard.  The  holy  words  were  spoken  and 
died  away,  but  the  strength  of  them  lingered  in  the 
hearts  of  the  young  speakers  for  many  and  many 
a  day. 

"But  Katharine!  Mildred!  one  must  seek  some- 
thing here;  the  earthly  nature  must  have  some 


"  EN  AVANT !  "  51 

earthly  treasure.  God  can  never  mean  that  we 
should  be  indifferent  to  all  the  good  things  of  this 
life." 

"JSTo,"  rejoined  Kate,  "not  indifferent;  but  not 
over  anxious.  I  know  there  are  things  belonging 
to  this  life  that  must  be  sought  earnestly  and  per- 
severingly ;  but  they  must  not  come  first.  I  sup- 
pose we  ought  to  enjoy,  and  in  a  lawful  way  to 
strive  for,  the  good  things  of  this  world ;  but  if  for 
them  we  neglect  the  better  things  that  will  last 
throughout  eternity,  we  do  wrong,  and,  sooner  or 
later,  disappointment  and  suffering  will  follow." 

"Katty,  you  are  thinking  of  the  sermon  Mr. 
Herbert  gave  us  this  morning." 

"I  have  thought  of  little  else  since  I  heard  it. 
It  seems  to  me  that  my  whole  life  has  been  a  mis- 
take. I  have  been  trying  to  do  right  of  myself 
ever  since  I  was  a  little  child,  and  weary  work  it 
has  been,  though  I  am  glad  I  never  quite  gave  up. 
And  now,  now  I  see  how  the  love  of  Christ  con- 
strains Christians  to  walk  in  the  ways  of  holiness, 
and  I  think  I  understand  what  Paul  meant  when 
he  said,  '  Not  having  mine  own  righteousness,  which, 
is  of  the  law,  but  that  which  is  through  the  faith 
of  Christ,  the  righteousness  which  is  of  God  by 
faith.' " 

Alfred  looked  at  Kate  with  some  surprise,  and 
then  a  gladsome  smile  broke  over  his  face,  and  he 
said,  "I  see  how  it  is,  dear  old  Katty!  you  have 
E  2 


52  THE   LILLINGSTONBS. 

found  the  straight  way  to  heaven,  and,  I  suppose, 
the  happiest  way  on  earth.  Now  I  know  exactly 
what  you  haye  found,  but  I  cannot  lay  hold  of  it  for 
myself.  I  suppose  I  am  too  worldly.  The  thought 
of  Lillingstone  in  the  possession  of  strangers  is 
wormwood  and  gall  to  me ;  the  thought  of  winning 
it  back  by  any  toil,  however  painful  and  arduous,  is 
my  deepest  joy.  Even  now  I  am  impatient  to  begin 
the  contest,  and  ready  to  strain  every  nerve  for  the 
Scholarship  that  will  be  awarded  next  June  twelve- 
months. I  only  wish  the  time  were  nearer,  and  yet 
I  shall  have  as  much  work  as  I  can  accomplish  in 
the  interim.  I  have  lost  ground,  you  see,  by  this 
long  unavoidable  holiday,  and  a  year  ago  I  was"  not 
half  as  diligent  as  I  ought  to  have  been.  Ah, 
Milly!  study  hard,  and  learn  all  you  can;  you 
cannot  know  how  much  or  how  soon  your  know- 
ledge may  serve  you.  If  I  had  not  been  idle  with 
Mr.  Meredith,  I  should  be  in  the  fifth  form  to- 
morrow. As  it  is,  I  may  think  myself  lucky  if  I 
find  myself  in  the  upper  fourth." 

"  Eut  you  will  work  hard  now,"  said  Milly,  con- 
solingly. "  Listen,  Alfred !  I  have  adopted  a  motto, 
and  it  is " 

"  < Excelsior!'  "  cried  both  Alfred  and  Kate  at 
once. 

"  Wrong!"  replied  Milly ;  "but  it  was  reading 
Longfellow  that  made  me  think  of  it.  It  is  l  En 
Avant!'  Always  going  on,  you  know;  never  turn- 


"EN  AVANT  !  "  53 

ing  back ;  never  sitting  down  by  the  wayside.     I 
mean  to  be  like  the  village  blacksmith : — 

'Toiling,  rejoicing,  sorrowing, 

Onward,  through  life  he  goes ; 
Each  morning  sees  some  task  begun, 

Each  evening  sees  it  close  : 
Something  attempted,  something  done, 
Has  earned  a  night's  repose.'  " 

" I  like  yonr  motto,  Milly!"  said  Alfred;  "but 
since  you  repudiate  '  Excelsior,'  I  think  I  shall 
claim  it." 

"Yes;  and  be  found  lifeless  but  beautiful,  on 
some  freezing  Alpine  height!''  retorted  Katty, 
smilingly.  "<  Excelsior'  is  not  always  a  safe 
motto :  incessant  climbing  must,  in  process  of  time, 
dehumanise  one.  "Who  cares  to  live  on  the  summit 
of  Mont  Blanc?" 

"  "Would  it  be  safer  if  one  were  a  Christian,  think 
you?"  asked  Alfred. 

"  Yes !  wouldn't  it  ?  A  Christian  must  have  one 
pure  ambition  that  will  always  keep  under  inferior 
aims,  however  dazzling  and  plausible.  There  would 
be  little  danger  of  his  destroying  himself  by  super- 
human efforts  to  gain  any  elevation  below  the 
skies." 

"I  see,  Katty!  "Well!  I  will  try  to  keep  my 
aspirations  within  bounds  ;  but  till  I  find  a  better, 
'Excelsior'  shall  be  my  motto." 

"And  yours,  Katty?"  asked  Milly,  with  girlish 
eagerness ;  "  you  must  have  a  motto  too  ! " 


54  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

Kate  thought  a  little;  presently  she  said,  "I 
have  found  one,  but  it  is  neither  French  nor  Latin ; 
only  good  plain  English — 1 1  press  towards  the 
mark!'" 

1 1  l  For  the  prize  of  the  high  calling  of  God,  in 
Christ  Jesus,7  "  added  Hilly,  gravely.  "  Oh,  Katty ! 
if  we  can  hut  win  that  prize  !" 

Just  then  Bertha  came  in,  and  Mildred,  much  to 
Alfred's  annoyance,  began  to  impart  to  her  the 
mottoes  they  had  chosen.  At  first  she  said  it  was 
foolish,  and  she  hoped  if  Mildred  were  always  to  go 
forward,  it  would  be  in  quite  a  new  direction,  since 
nothing  could  be  gained  by  progressing  in  the  paths 
of  carelessness  and  neglect. 

Mildred  humbly  avowed  her  intention  to  turn 
over  a  new  leaf,  and  reminded  Bertha  that  she  had 
folded  up  her  things  and  put  them  away  on  her 
return  from  church. 

"Which  was  an  exaggeration  of  neatness,  and  a 
waste  of  time,"  retorted  Bertha ;  "  since  I  heard 
you  say  you  meant  to  go  to  the  evening  service.  It 
would  have  been  sufficient  to  lay  them  neatly  on 
your  bed ;  besides,  you  left  your  prayer-book  on  the 
edge  of  the  stone  vase  in  the  garden,  and  if  a  shower 
had  fallen  it  would  have  been  spoiled." 

Poor  Mildred  looked  considerably  crestfallen. 

"  Not  much  danger  of  a  shower,"  said  Alfred, 
rather  hastily;  "and  if  rain  had  come,  some  one  or 
other  would  have  brought  it  in  !  " 


"  EN   AVANT  !  "  55 

"  You  always  encourage  Mildred  in  her  heedless- 
ness,"  remarked  Bertha,  stiffly. 

"  I  do  not,  Bertha ;  but  I  do  not  want  her  to  he 
discouraged  when  she  is  really  making  an  effort  to 
break  through  habits  that  seem  to  have  been  born 
with  her — habits  that  are  as  natural  to  her  as  yours 
are  to  you.  She  is  careless  and  slovenly  and  even 
rough ;  but  she  is  conscientious  and  unselfish  and 
brave!  You  are  propriety  and  precision  itself: 
I  never  saw  you  do  anything  that  was  not  done  in 
the  best  way  possible;  but  you  are  given  to  find 
fault,  to  domineer,  and  to  lose  your  temper." 

"I  am  extremely  obliged  to  you,"  returned 
Bertha,  in  a  tone  of  great  irritation.  "When  I 
require  a  character,  I  shall  know  where  I  must  not 
apply  for  one  1" 

"Bertha,  dear!  don't  be  angry,"  interposed 
Kate.  "  Whatever  poverty  and  change  of  position 
may  effect,  let  it  never  cause  us  to  be  harsh  with 
one  another ;  let  us,  despite  our  many  faults,  have 
unity  and  love  among  ourselves." 

"I  am  sure  I  do  not  wish  to  quarrel  with  any 
one,"  was  Bertha's  cold  rejoinder. 

"I  am  sure  you  do  not.  We  have  trials  enough 
from  without ;  we  need  not  make  them  among  our- 
selves. Your  neat  orderly  habits,  and  your  genius 
for  managing  will  be  invaluable,  now  that  we  can 
keep  only  one  regular  servant.  Helen  will  read  to 
mamma,  while  I  am  busy  teaching  Milly  and  the 


56  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

children,  and  while  you  are  looking  after  the  house- 
keeping, and  Milly  must  study  hard  and  try  to  , 
make  herself  generally  useful.  Alfred  will  have 
enough  on  his  hands  by  this  time  to-morrow ;  so 
you  see,  we  have  each  and  all  our  proper  province 
and  our  daily  work  and  duty,  and  I  am  sure  we 
need  not  clash !  " 

The  idea  of  being  general  manager  quite  soothed 
Bertha's  ruffled  temper,  and  she  entered  into  con- 
versation with  spirit  and  urbanity.  "Yes,"  she 
said,  "  you  are  right,  Katty  !  we  must  each  keep  to 
one  post  and  do  our  best ;  and  I  hope  and  believe," 
with  a  little  air  of  superiority,  l '  that  dear  Milly 
will  become  quite  a  different  woman  from  what  we 
were  afraid  she  would  one  day  prove !  As  to  Alfred, 
I  envy  him :  the  excitement  of  examinations  and 
prizes  will  be  delightful ;  but  I  do  not  quite  like 
the  idea  of  his  being  associated  with  the  boys  of  the 
town,  though  of  course  his  acquaintance  with  them 
will  be  limited  to  the  indispensable  intercourse  of 
the  school-room ! " 

"  Nonsense,  Bertha !  "  returned  Alfred  ;  "I  dare 
say  there  are  lads  there  quite  as  much  of  gentlemen 
as  any  Lillingstone  ever  was  or  ever  will  be.  Of 
course  I  shall  not  cultivate  intimacies  with  really 
inferior  persons ;  but,  Bertha,  don't  let  the  world 
say  we  are  poor  and  proud!  There  is  nothing  so 
contemptible  as  exclusiveness.  "We  may  keep  our 
own  position,  which  you  know  is  no  longer  that 


"  EN  AYANT  I  "  .  57 

of  the  Lillingstones  of  Lillingstone,  and  yet  we 
need  not  be  frigid  and  haughty,  and  afraid  of  the 
advances  of  our  neighbours.  Depend  upon  it,  when 
people  are  exclusive,  there  is  something  in  their 
origin  which  they  wish  to  conceal.  We  can  do 
without  any  fictitious  assumptions  of  rank  and 
breeding — we  are  sure  of  our  own  standing — so  do 
not  be  alarmed  if  you  find  me  enjoying  to  the  full 
the  society  of  congenial  class-mates!" 

Bertha  looked  doubtful;  but  before  she  could 
reply,  Mildred  began  again  about  the  mottoes,  and 
begged  Bertha  to  choose  one  for  herself,  remarking 
that  it  would  be  so  pleasant  to  talk  them  over  in 
years  to  come,  and  see  how  they  had  each  acted  in 
the  spirit  of  them. 

"  Here  is  mine,  then,"  said  Bertha,  promptly, 
"and,  like  Katty's,  it  is  a  text  of  Scripture,  and 
therefore  to  be  respected — '  She  looketh  well  to  the 
ways  of  her  household,  and  eateth  not  the  bread  of 
idleness.'  " 

"  Most  characteristic,  my  fair  sister,"  exclaimed 
Alfred. 

"I  take  that  speech  as  a  compliment,"  returned 
Bertha.  Alfred  made  no  answer ;  indeed,  there  was 
no  time,  for  the  children  came  in  from  church,  eager 
to  tell  about  the  christenings  they  had  seen.  Kate, 
Mildred,  and  Alfred  attended  the  evening  service, 
and  strangely  enough,  to  Milly's  extreme  delight, 
Mr.  Herbert  took  for  his  text  the  very  words  of 


58  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

Katty's  motto.  This  sermon  was  like  nothing  they 
had  ever  heard  before,  and  they  walked  home 
affirming  that  Oldminster  did  certainly  present  some 
advantages  which  were  not  to  be  found  at  dear  old 
Lillingstone !  And  so  passed  the  first  Sunday  in 
their  new  home, 


THE  FIRST  LAUKELS.  59 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  PIKST  LAURELS. 

"  OH  !  if  Alfred  would  but  come  home ! "  ciied  Mil- 
dred, one  dark  afternoon  in  December,  just  fourteen 
months  after  the  conversation  recorded  in  the  last 
chapter.  "I  saw  Fawcett  and  Egerton  go  by  ten 
minutes  ago,  and  there  are  the  Goldings.  How 
pleased  Philip  seems !  I  dare  say  he  has  won  the 
divinity  prize  he  wanted.  Oh  dear !  Alfred  must 
be  staying  the  very  last ! " 

They  were  all  sitting  in  the  dining-room — Milly 
straining  her  eyes  down  the  foggy  street  in  the 
direction  of  ]N"elsthorpe  Lane,  which  was  Alfred's 
usual  way  home  from  school ;  Helen  pretending  to 
net,  with  the  knottiest  and  most  disobliging  purse- 
silk  that  was  ever  manufactured ;  Kate  trying  to 
read,  but  really  sharing  Milly 's  watch  at  the  win- 
dow ;  and  Bertha  sewing  with  her  ordinary  calmness 
and  painstaking  air. 

Mrs.  Lillingstone  sat  in  her  own  rocking-chair  by 
the  fire,  declaring  that  it  was  too  dark  to  go  on 


60  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

with,  her  crochet;  but  ever  and  anon  poring  over 
an  old,  ill-printed  Iliad,  which  she  had  been  reading 
with  great  interest  for  a  week  past.  "Walter  lay 
on  the  hearth-rug,  keeping  up  a  curious  chatter  of 
mingled  soliloquy  and  recitation.  He  was  conning 
his  Latin  grammar,  and  making  parenthetical  re- 
marks:— "  Mamma!"  he  exclaimed,  "  Mamma  dear! 
how  can  you  see  that  pale,  small  type?  you'll  go 
blind  for  certain ! — '  Ilia  feminina  sunt,  in  do  et 
go  quse  desinunt!' — I  know  Alfred's  safe  for  the 
General  Work  and  the  Composition.  You  should 
have  heard  him  spouting  his  verses  this  morning ! 
I  could  tell  how  fine  they  were,  though  I  couldn't 
understand  them — '  Sed  masculina  manent  cardo, 
Ligo,  ordo,  atque  margo ! ' — How  stupid  of  him  not 
to  come  home !  Katty,  won't  you  make  me  a  fishing 
apron  like  Philip  Golding's  next  summer? — l  Sunt 
in  io  feminina' — I  shall  never  know  this  lesson. 
I  wish  one  could  know  Latin  without  learning  this 
vile  grammar.  Mamma,  I  can  tell  you  who  will 
have  the  mathematical  prize  in  the  Sixth  Form ; 
but  Alfred  will  have  'TheBlount,'  you'll  see.  Louis 
Golding  thinks  Albert  's  going  to  have  it — l  caro 
(carnis)  mavult  se,  feminina  addere ' — prefers  in- 
deed !  the  idea  of  a  substantive  having  a  preference ; 
but  if  Albert  makes  as  many  false  quantities  as 
Louis,  he'll  never  have  the  shadow  of  a  shade  of  a 
chance.  Katty,  won't  you  hear  me  my  lesson?" 
"No,  Walter!  I  am  sure  you  do  not  know  it. 


THE  FIRST  LAURELS.  61 

I  think  you  had  better  put  it  away  till  after  tea : 
your  head  is  too  full  of  Alfred  to  retain  Latin  rules." 

"  So  it  is  ! "  cried  the  child,  springing  to  his  feet ; 
"  I  could  not  think  why  all  the  words  went  slipping 
by  me.  "When  I  wanted  them  again,  they  were 
gone  clean  away.  Hilly  !  I'll  come  and  watch  with 
you.  Oh !  I  wish  it  wasn't  so  dark ! "  Bertha  made 
some  profound  remark  upon  the  desirability  of  occupy- 
ing one's  self  instead  of  encouraging  the  excitement 
of  suspense ;  but  no  one  heeded  her,  save  Milly, 
who  felt  that  she  ought  to  be  practising.  Mean- 
while the  short  winter  day  closed  in  coldly  and 
murkily,  the  lamps  gleamed  red  through  the  fog, 
the  rain  began  to  descend  slowly  and  thickly,  and 
scarcely  a  foot-fall  resounded  on  the  pavement  of 
the  wet,  deserted  street.  Sarah  came  in  with  the 
tea,  and  the  curtains  were  drawn  and  the  candles 
lighted ;  but  still  no  Alfred !  And  now  Mrs.  Lil- 
lingstone  began  to  be  nervous.  She  knew  he  was 
disappointed,  and  could  not  bear  to  come  home  with 
his  bad  news ;  but  Kate  and  Mildred  vehemently 
repudiated  the  idea,  and  Walter  cried  out,  ' c  Not 
he !  he  would  come  straight  away  if  they'd  marked 
him  lowest  on  the  form.  I  know  though :  he  can't 
get  away,  because  the  masters  are  complimenting 
him,  and  he  doesn't  know  how  to  lug  all  his  prizes 
home — they're  too  many  for  one  load!" 

A  much  better  supposition  than  their  mother's, 
all  the  sisters  thought ;  but  Bertha  gently  observed 


62  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

that  such,  brilliant  success  was  scarcely  to  be  ex- 
pected. Having  tea  was  out  of  the  question :  he 
must  come  in  five  minutes !  But  five,  ten,  twenty 
minutes,  half  an  hour,  went  by,  and  still  no  tidings 
from  the  school-house.  Even  Bertha  felt  a  little 
anxious,  and  stole  once  or  twice  to  peep  behind  the 
blind.  Helen's  new  novel  was  impatiently  tossed 
aside.  What  were  the  sorrows  of  Lady  Lucinda 
compared  with  the  anxieties  of  Helen  Lillingstone  ? 
Seven  o'clock  struck:  the  old  clock  on  the  stairs 
rang  out  its  seven  strokes  in  its  ordinary,  monotonous, 
care-for-nothing  fashion ;  the  time-piece  pealed  forth 
its  mellow,  silvery  chimes,  and  the  minster  clock 
at  the  bottom  of  the  town  sounded  sadly  and  wearily 
on  the  heavy  air!  Where  could  the  truant  be? 
All  the  anxious  party  in  the  dining-room  asked 
themselves  and  each  other  that  one  question,  with 
little  intermission.  Mildred  wanted  to  go  and  look 
for  him  ;  but  that  could  not  be  allowed  :  it  was  now 
quite  dark,  and  a  fine  soaking  rain  was  falling  steadily. 
It  was  all  they  could  do,  though,  to  keep  Walter 
from  darting  away  in  search  of  the  missing  one. 

At  length  Kate  said,  despairingly,  "We  must 
have  tea,  I  suppose  !  Mamma  dear !  you  are  looking 
so  pale ;  I  will  pour  you  out  a  cup  at  once."  All 
gathered  round  the  table ;  Bertha  was  buttering 
bread  for  her  mother,  and  Kate  was  busy  with  the 
sugar-basin,  when  the  door  abruptly  opened,  and 
Sarah's  head  and  a  huge  cap  frill  were  projected  into 


THE  FIRST  LAURELS.  63 

the  room.  "He's  come!"  she  said,  almost  in  a 
whisper;  "he's  come  in  by  the  back-door,  and  he 
be  taking  off  his  collossians  "  (Sarah's  rendering  of 
goloshes).  And  then  the  head  was  withdrawn,  and 
the  door  closed  with  a  bang,  and  Kate  drew  a  long 
breath,  dropped  the  sugar-tongs,  and  pushed  her 
chair  back  from  the  table.  Mildred  immediately 
upset  the  cream-jug. 

Again  the  door  was  opened,  and  this  time  Alfred 
himself  appeared,  his  cheeks  red  with  running,  and 
his  hair  and  coat  wet  with  rain.  Otherwise,  it 
seemed  quite  an  ordinary  coming  home ;  he  was 
very  quiet,  and  no  one  would  have  guessed  that  the 
Oldminster  Grammar  School  Examinations  were  just 
concluded,  and  Alfred  in  the  Sixth  Eorm!  Mrs. 
Lillingstone  rose  and  threw  her  arms  round  her 
tall  son,  kissing  his  damp,  warm  brow,  and  his 
ruddy  cheeks,  as  if  to  assure  him  that  it  was  all 
one  to  her,  whether  he  came  home  with  laurels,  or 
shorn  of  his  pristine  glories.  He  kissed  her  very 
tenderly  and  gravely ;  and  Bertha  at  once  decided 
that  he  had  been  unsuccessful.  Helen  and  her 
mother  felt  painfully  doubtful ;  but  Kate,  Mildred, 
and  Walter  were  sure  that  the  Champion  of  Old- 
minster  School  stood  before  them. 

"Is  it  very  late,  Katty?"  he  asked,  as  he  untied 
his  neckcloth,  and  drew  near  the  table. 

"Oh,  Alfred,  why  don't  you  tell  us  at  once? 
Have  you  got  a  prize  ?"  cried  Mildred,  in  an  agony. 


64  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

"A  prize!"  put  in  Walter,  scornfully;  "who 
doubts  it  ?  The  thing  is,  has  he  got  lots  ?  " 

"I  think  I  have  done  pretty  well,"  said  Alfred, 
coolly,  a  smile  breaking  over  his  grave  countenance 
in  spite  of  himself.  "  I  think  you'll  be  satisfied, 
mamma  and  sisters,  and  you  too,  Mr.  Walter !  " 

"Walter  cut  a  caper,  and  Mildred  made  what  Alice 
called  "  great  shining  eyes." 

"Well,  I  have  'The  Blount,'  and  the  Composition 
prize." 

"I  knew  it,"  shouted  Walter  exultingly. 

"And  the  Divinity!" 

"  /said  you  would  take  that,"  interposed  Hatty, 
almost  beginning  to  cry. 

"And  what  else?"  cried  Bertha,  eagerly;  for,  to 
her  infinite  credit,  she  had  for  once  forgotten  all 
about  repose  of  manner  and  control  of  feelings,  &c.  &c. 

"  You  unconscionable  girl ! "  returned  her  brother; 
"  are  not  these  prizes  sufficient  for  any  one  ?" 

"Eor  any  one  except  Alfred  Lillingstone,"  was 
Milly's  ecstatic  rejoinder.  She  was  performing  some- 
thing like  an  Indian  war-dance  by  this  time. 

' '  Well,  then ;  there  is  the  class  prize  for  General 
Work— -will  that  content  you?" 

Walter  and  Mildred  shrieked  in  concert. 

"  And  the  German  prize — who  has  that  ?"  asked 
Helen,  not  daring  to  suppose  that  also  could  be  her 
brother's. 

' l  One  Alfred  Lillingstone,  a  greedy  fellow,  lays 


THE  FIRST  LAURELS.  65 

claim  to  it,  I  am  told !  "  lie  answered  gaily.  "  And 
now,  don't  expect  any  more,  for  there  really  is 
nothing  else." 

"  I  should  think  not,"  said  "Walter ;  "but,  Alfred, 
where  are  the  spoils  ?  *  The  Blount '  will  be  three 
great  big  volumes  ;  Mr.  Herbert  told  me  so." 

"In  the  hall,"  replied  Alfred:  "I  would  not 
bring  them  in,  because  I  wanted  to  have  the  pleasure 
of  telling  you  by  degrees.  There  were  far  too  many 
for  me  to  carry  safely,  so  I  got  Jefferson  to  come 
with  me.  It  would  have  been  too  bad  to  let  one 
fall  on  the  wet,  muddy  pavement." 

"  Didn't  I  say  there  were  too  many  for  one  load  ?" 
exclaimed  Walter,  quite  as  much  alive  as  his  seniors 
to  the  luxury  of  triumphantly  declaring; — "  I  TOLD 
YOU  so ! " 

"You  have  sagacity  beyond  your  years,  and  pre- 
science that  is  truly  alarming,  "Walter!"  returned 
Alfred.  "But  now  come  and  help  me  bear  in  the 
trophies!" 

And  a  goodly  pile  they  made.  Three  handsomely 
bound  and  splendidly  illustrated  volumes  of  Sacred 
Geography  for  "  The  Elount ;"  two  goodly  tomes  for 
the  Divinity  prize,  and  for  the  others,  single  volumes 
of  large  size  and  unexceptionable  binding. 

And  then  his  mother  kissed  him  again,  and  confessed 
that  she  should  have  been  disappointed  had  he  brought 
home  no  prize  at  all.  And  now  that  he  came  laden 
with  spoils,  now  that  he  had  quite  surpassed  her 


66  THE  LILLINGSTONES. 

most  sanguine  expectations,  she  was  delighted  heyond 
measure,  and  it  almost  reconciled  her  to  Oldminster, 
and  made  her  think  of  old  Lillingstone  with  less 
regret. 

Mildred  hurst  out — "Oh!  if  poor  papa  were 
hut "  hut  she  was  admonished  to  rule  her  heed- 
less tongue  by  a  private  pinch  from  Bertha's  snowy 
little  fingers ;  and  when  she  saw  the  tears  swimming 
in  her  mother's  eyes,  called  there  hy  her  thoughtless 
speech,  she  looked  so  deplorahly  heart- stricken  and 
penitent  that  even  her  self- constituted  Mentoria 
could  not  help  trying  to  comfort  her ;  and  Alfred  dis- 
played the  costly  engravings  in  his  "Elount"  prize, 
and  created  a  diversion  in  favour  of  the  delinquent. 

When  tea  was  removed,  the  hooks  were  again 
hrought  under  discussion;  they  were  duly  passed 
from  hand  to  hand,  and  submitted  to  Sarah's  ready 
admiration  when  she  came  in  for  the  kettle;  and 
just  as  Alfred  was  preparing  to  carry  them  away, 
Alice  came  home  from  an  afternoon's  visit  to  the 
Bectory,  and  they  were  displayed  once  more  for  her 
little  ladyship's  inspection  and  satisfaction. 

At  last  they  were  borne  off  by  the  proud  and  happy 
owner,  who,  as  he  left  the  room,  humbly  petitioned 
for  roasted  potatoes  for  supper*  So  Kate  went  to 
the  kitchen  to  give  her  orders,  and  found  Sarah 
thoroughly  indignant  because  a  regular  hot  supper 
was  not  to  be  served  up  in  honour  of  the  occasion. 
She  would  willingly  have  trudged  in  rain  and  mud 


THE   FIRST   LAURELS.  67 

through  the  town  to  procure  the  viands  which  she 
thought  suitable  for  a  hero's  repast,  and  these  were  a 
roast  goose  and  a  handsome  plum  pudding.  Katty 
reminded  her  that  it  was  already  late,  and  that 
neither  goose  nor  pudding  could  possibly  be  achieved 
in  time  for  that  day's  eating ;  so  she  was  fain  to  con- 
tent herself  with  adding  apples  to  potatoes,  and 
exerting  all  her  skill  to  roast  them  to  perfection. 
That  night  a  happy  party  was  gathered  round  the 
large  dining-room  table  to  discuss  the  simple  fare  so 
carefully  served  by  the  important  domestic,  who  fully 
identified  herself  with  Master  Alfred's  triumph ;  and 
multitudinous  and  varied  were  the  questions  as  to 
the  nature  of  the  different  examinations,  the  manner 
of  the  examiners,  and  the  difficulties  and  fears  and 
hopes  of  the  victorious  combatant  himself. 

But  when  eleven  o'clock  struck,  Bertha  seized 
"Walter,  and  hurried  him  off  to  the  upper  regions. 
Alice,  long  since  fast  asleep  on  the  sofa,  was  quite 
ready  to  be  carried  to  bed,  and  Mildred  could  not 
deny  that  she  ought  to  be  tucked  up  and  dreaming. 
Mrs.  Lillingstone  and  Helen,  though  unwilling  to 
bid  good-night,  were  dismally  tired,  so  Bertha's 
movement  broke  up  the  party,  and  by  a  quarter  past 
eleven,  Katty  and  Alfred  were  sitting  together  by 
the  expiring  fire,  glad  to  be  quiet,  and  yet  indisposed 
to  go  to  bed.  They  were  silent  for  a  while,  and  then 
Katty  said — "Well!  this  important  day  is  over  at 
last." 

p  2 


68  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

"  Yes !"  returned  Alfred,  with  a  yawn  and  a  sigh 
of  relief  that  showed  how  great  had  been  the  tension. 
"  Yes !  I  would  not  have  many  such  days  for  all  the 
laurels  in  Christendom.  But  you  cannot  think  how 
kind  all  the  masters  were.  Dr.  Armstrong  kept  me 
for  ten  minutes,  while  he  said  civil  things  to  me ; 
and  as  for  Mr.  Millar  and  old  Dennison,  I  believe 
they  would  have  been  altogether  disgusted  if  '  The 
Blount '  had  gone  elsewhere.  It  was  all  very  well 
when  it  was  over ;  and  it  was  very  pleasant  to  hear 
the  doctor  talk  about  the  first  laurels ;  but  I  wouldn't 
have  such  another  day  to-morrow  for  any  money." 

' '  You  feel  pretty  confident  about  the  Scholarship, 
I  suppose?  " 

"  Why,  yes !  I  see  no  reasonable  ground  of  anxiety. 
I  could  have  taken  it  to-day,  I  believe ;  so,  of  course, 
there  will  be  no  difficulty  in  securing  it  this  day 
six  months.  Ah !  those  will  be  laurels  to  bring 
home;  for  they  say  it  will  be  no  boy's  play!  I 
heard  Dr.  Armstrong  tell  one  of  the  Oxford  exami- 
ners that  there  had  never  been  so  much  talent  in 
the  school  since  he  became  head  master,  and  that 
was  more  than  fifteen  years  ago;  though  for  my 
part,  I  must  say,  I  cannot  see  where  this  superlative 
talent  lies." 

There  was  something  in  Alfred's  tone  and  smile 
that  made  Hatty  rather  uneasy.  She  could  not 
define  the  vague  feeling  of  disquiet  that  stole  over 
her  while  she  listened  to  his  joyous  voice,  and 


THE   FIRST   LAURELS.  69 

watched  his  bright  young  face  ;  and  she  chid  herself 
for  her  ridiculous  misgivings.  Misgivings  of  what  ? 
Of  Alfred,  of  his  success,  or  of  his  ultimate  pros- 
perity when  school  and  college  days  should  be  over  ? 
She  could  not  tell :  she  only  wished  he  would  not 
seem  quite  so  confident,  and  she  could  almost  have 
wished  that  he  were  less  elated  ;  but  she  would  not 
say  so. 

Alfred,  however,  was  watching  her,  and  he  dis- 
cerned at  once  the  shadow  that  rested  on  his  sister's 
expressive  countenance.  "  Well,  old  Katty,"  he 
said  presently,  finding  that  she  did  not  intend  to 
communicate  her  thoughts;  "  what  are  you  pon- 
dering so  gravely  ?" 

"I  was  thinking  of  laurel  wreaths,"  she  said, 
with  a  smile  that  only  deepened  the  gravity  of  her 
thoughtful  eyes;  "and  I  was  thinking,  too,  how 
they  fade  and  are  forgotten." 

"  *  Sic  transit  gloria  mundi,'  eh!  old  Kittums!  is 
that  it?" 

"  Tor  all  flesh  is  as  grass,  and  all  the  glory  of 
man  as  the  flower  of  grass,'  "  she  returned,  quietly. 
"But,  Alfred  dear,  I  do  not  want  to  damp  your 
pleasure  to-night;  I  was  only  thinking — I  could 
not  help  it — how  everything  comes  and  goes,  and 
fades  away,  even  from  the  memory,  as  years  roll 
on ;  just  as  in  travelling  we  approach  different 
points  of  the  landscape,  admire  them,  pass  them, 
and  then  watch  them  gradually  receding ;  and  after- 


70  THE  LILLINGSTONES. 

wards  remember  them  but  dimly,  or  not  at  all. 
And  when  we  are  safely  at  home,  the  whole  journey 
seems  so  unsubstantial  and  unreal !  " 

"  And  you  would  say,  that  when  we  reach  the  end 
of  the  journey  of  life,  all  incidents  by  the  way,  even 
the  most  important,  will  seem  only  trivialities?" 

"I  meant  something  of  the  kind.  The  text 
that  Alice  said  to  me  this  morning  was — 'The 
fashion  of  this  world  passeth  away,'  and  somehow  it 
has  been  running  in  my  head  all  day ;  even  when 
we  were  all  waiting  so  impatiently  for  your  coming 
home  I  did  not  forget  it." 

"But,  Katty,  though  everything  earthly  will 
appear  trivial,  when,  as  Mr.  Herbert  says,  we  see 
the  turnings  and  windings  of  our  path  here  below, 
in  the  clear,  piercing  light  of  Eternity,  yet  it  does 
not  do  to  count  some  things  trivialities/  I  mean 
such  things  as  success  in  life,  and  others,  which 
it  is  lawful  and  even  laudable  to  attend  to." 

"  No  !  I  suppose  not :  I  know  it  does  not — all  I 
meant  is,  that  we  must  not  set  too  high  a  value  on 
those  things  which  from  their  very  nature  engross 
so  much  of  our  time  and  our  endeavours.  "We  must 
keep  the  one  thing  first !  " 

"I  see  what  you  mean,  Katty  dear  !  and  I  assure 
you  I  feel  the  danger,  as  well  as  the  duty,  of  enter- 
ing upon  such  conflicts  as  that  which  has  terminated 
so  happily  to-day.  I  am  glad  you  spoke  about  it, 
for  I  must  own  I  have  been  forgetting  everything 


THE  FIRST  LAURELS.  71 

but  the  Examination;  and  now  that  it  is  over,  I 
feel  as  if  I  could  find  no  pleasure  in  anything  but 
the  prospect  of  next  midsummer's  competition.  I 
have  tested  success— or  rather  success  has  tested  me, 
and  I  am  afraid  I  am  like  the  tiger  cubs  when 
they  first  lap  blood — insatiate  for  more.  And  I 
am  ashamed  to  say,  I  have  been  so  engrossed  with 
my  own  hopes  and  fears  and  labours,  that  for  several 
weeks  I  have  not  cared  to  have  a  chat  with  you,  or 
to  interest  myself  about  the  others.  Do  you  think 
Helen  is  better?" 

"Yes!  I  believe  she  is  tolerably  well  again:  it 
was  severe  influenza,  and  Helen  is  the  one  among 
us  least  able  to  cope  with  any  kind  of  indisposition. 
Her  spirits  are  so  unequal — one  day  wildly  elate, 
and  the  next  sunk  to  the  lowest  ebb.  If  we  could 
only  persuade  her  to  read  something  besides  novels 
and  poetry ! " 

"It  is  just  like  living  on  strawberry  cream  and 
champagne !  "When  will  people  learn  to  treat  their 
minds  as  well  as  their  bodies?  "What  would 
become  of  any  one  who  subsisted  entirely  on  made 
dishes  and  stimulants  ?" 

"  What,  indeed  ?  And  then  Bertha  runs  into  the 
other  extreme,  and  looks  upon  the  purest  and  most 
beautiful  fiction  as  a  rigid  teetotaller  looks  upon 
matutinal  brandy  and  water.  She  feeds  her  mind 
with  nothing  but  the  most  approved  solids !" 

"  I  do  not  think  Bertha's  mental  aliment  can  be 


72  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

strictly  called  solid,  though,  it  is  neither  light  nor 
piquant.  I  think  she  may  be  classed  as  an  intel- 
lectual vegetarian.  You  know  she  objects  to  Miss 
Strickland's  '  Queens'  because  they  are  written  in 
a  story-telling  style  ;  she  accuses  Macaulay  of  fri- 
volity ;  and  she  repudiates  all  poets  but  Young  and 
"Wordsworth.  The  latter,  indeed,  she  classes  with 
Cowper,  and  the  two  combined  form  her  occasional 
light  reading.  So  unnatural  in  a  girl  of  her  age  !  " 
And  Alfred  groaned,  and  ended  with  —  "If  she 
were  but  sixty,  instead  of  under  seventeen  !  I  am 
sure  that  in  some  occult  way  which  we  cannot 
understand  she  is  full  twenty  years  older  than 


mamma 


" 


Katty  laughed.  "  A  curious  assertion  that  !  "  she 
replied;  "but  I  am  just  thinking  it  is  scarcely 
right  of  us  to  sit  here  passing  judgment  on  our 
absent  sisters,  as  if  we  were  veritable  Mentors,  and 
they  rash,  impulsive  Telemachuses." 

"  As  if  Bertha  were  ever  impulsive  !  If  she  has 
any  impulses,  which  I  doubt,  she  keeps  them  in 
wonderful  subjection.  IsTo  !  she  reasons  down  every 
spark  of  enthusiasm,  till  it  dies  of  sheer  want  of 
nourishment." 

"  You  would  not  say  so  if  you  had  seen  her  when 
we  were  waiting  for  you  to-night.  And  you  must 
remember  how  eagerly  she  asked  you  about  the 
prizes?  She  was  as  earnest  as  any  of  us." 

"  Ah  !  well,  Katty,  you  are  an  excellent  advocate  : 


THE  FIRST  LAURELS.  73 

you  defend  everybody  but  yourself,  and  a  very  good 
case  you  generally  make  out.  There  is  no  need  to 
tell  you  to  learn  the  thirteenth  chapter  of  First 
Corinthians.  Come,  I  think  we  had  better  go  to 
bed,  as  the  old  saw  says  bed  will  never  come  to 
us ;  and  it  has  been  to-morrow  morning  this  long 
time." 


74  THE  LILLINGSTONES. 


CHAPTER  YL 

"THE  CAMPBELLS  ABE  COMING." 

THE  next  morning  the  household  of  the  Lillingstones 
was  in  anything  but  an  industrious  mood,  though 
Bertha  rose  valiantly  when  Sarah  tapped  at  her 
door  and  announced  that  it  was  seven  o'clock.  It 
was  a  hitter  morning ;  during  the  night  the  baro- 
meter had  fallen  rapidly,  and  the  misty  rain  of  the 
preceding  evening  had  changed  into  a  miserable 
driving  sleet.  Bertha  stood  shivering  in  her  dressing- 
gown  over  her  refractory  lucifers,  that  refused  to 
strike  upon  any  terms.  She  looked  out:  all  was 
dark  and  cheerless ;  the  earliest  beams  of  dawn  had 
scarcely  broken  the  leaden  gloom  of  the  heavy 
clouds,  and  the  blast  came  sweeping  eerily  up  the 
long,  wet,  lonely  street.  Bertha  glanced  back  wist- 
fully to  her  forsaken  bed  —  that  was  warm  and 
snug  she  knew ;  then  she  listened  to  Helen's  gentle 
breathing,  and  for  a  moment  envied  her  sound, 
undisturbed  repose,  and  wished  she  too  were  once 
more  ensconced  beneath  the  friendly  blankets.  And 


"THE  CAMPBELLS  ARE  COMING."         75 

then  came  visions  of  her  morning  toilet ;  anticipa- 
tions of  the  delightful  temperature  of  the  cold  bath, 
in  which  she  took  stern  enjoyment,  believing  that 
the  shock  braced  her  nerves,  and  strengthened  her 
powers  of  resolution  and  her  habits  of  self-discipline. 
She  listened!  —  the  whole  house  was  silent, 
wrapped,  no  doubt,  in  balmy  slumbers ;  slumbers, 
too,  that  would  endure  till  the  morning  was  well 
advanced.  If  she  resisted  the  temptation  to  go 
back  and  have  another  doze,  what  would  be  gained 
thereby  ?  If  she  forthwith  performed  those  terrible 
ablutions,  and  dressed  as  speedily  as  her  precise  habits 
would  allow,  what  then?  She  would  go  down  to 
a  half- warmed  room,  where  her  patience  would  be 
sorely  tried  in  waiting  for  some  one  else  to  come 
down  to  breakfast.  She  took  up  the  match-box 
again,  and  struck  another  lucifer ;  but,  like  its 
brethren,  it  missed  fire,  and  it  was  altogether  too 
dark  to  think  of  dressing  with  any  comfort.  So, 
contrary  to  her  usual  custom,  Bertha  yielded  to  the 
tempting  luxury  of  "  a  little  more  sleep  and  a  little 
more  slumber,"  and  the  next  minute  saw  her  snugly 
tucked  in  once  more,  while  a  delicious  sense  of 
dreaminess  immediately  stole  over  her  senses.  Now 
Bertha  intended — as  you  and  I  have  often  done, 
dear  reader — to  have  a  comfortable  half  hour's  nap, 
no  more!  She  was  so  habitually  an  early  riser,  that 
she  hardly  knew  the  seductive  and  deceitful  nature 
of  that  delicious  little  snooze  that  extends  from  the 


76  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

time  of  being  called  to  tlie  unceremonious  announce- 
ment that  breakfast  is  waiting,  or  half  over,  or 
finished,  as  the  temper  or  habit  of  the  family  may 
be.  She  had  a  charming  little  dream  of  going  back 
in  grand  state  to  Lillingstone ;  of  some  pageant  in 
which  she  herself  figured  prominently,  and  in  which 
Alfred  appeared  as  Lord  High  Chancellor ;  and  just 
as  the  Queen,  and  the  Prince  Consort,  and  a  crowd 
of  illustrious  retainers  were  coming  up  to  honour  her 
with  their  special  notice,  she  discovered  that  Milly 
stood  by  her  side,  with  a  torn,  muddied  frock,  and 
fearfully  splashed  stockings,  such  as  she  sometimes 
came  in  with,  from  a  long  country  walk  in  damp 
weather.  In  her  anger  and  confusion  she  pushed 
Hilly  away,  who  fell  awkwardly  against  one  of  the 
pillars  of  the  grand  portico  at  Lillingstone;  and 
behold !  there  was  a  cracking  and  a  rumbling,  and 
the  whole  building  seemed  falling  into  ruins,  and 
Bertha  awoke  in  great  horror,  and  sat  upright  in 
bed! 

There  was  no  need  of  lucifer  matches  now;  for 
the  broad  daylight  shone  without  let  or  hindrance 
into  the  room,  and  immediately  she  remembered 
that  when  she  had  returned  to  bed  the  blind  was 
down,  whereas  now  it  was  drawn  up  as  high  as  it 
would  go !  She  looked  across  to  Helen's  bed,  and 
lo,  it  was  empty !  She  glanced  at  the  place  where 
her  sister's  morning  dress  generally  hung,  and  that 
too  was  not  to  be  seen.  Bertha  sprang  up  in  great 


"THE  CAMPBELLS  ARE  COMING."         77 

dismay.  Was  it  possible  that  Helen,  the  loiterer, 
the  confirmed  late  riser,  had  indeed  gotten  the  start 
of  her  ?  Hastily  she  consulted  her  watch ;  but  it 
had  stopped,  and  she  remembered  at  once  that  she 
had  forgotten  to  wind  it  up  the  night  before,  and 
nothing  humiliated  Bertha  more  than  the  conscious- 
ness of  an  act  of  forgetfulness.  Then  she  recalled 
her  dreams,  and  from  their  length  and  variety  she 
concluded  that  she  had  slept  a  long  time.  Never 
had  she  made  a  morning  toilet  in  such  decided 
hurry;  but  in  spite  of  all  her  rapidity  she  was 
rather  long  in  dressing.  Her  fingers  were  numbed ; 
Helen  had  taken  her  comb  in  mistake  for  her  own ; 
and,  somehow,  those  luxuriant  braids  of  hair,  usually 
so  tractable  and  so  easily  disposed  of,  were  not  to  be 
coaxed  or  pulled  into  anything  respectable.  Bertha 
went  downstairs  out  of  temper  with  herself,  and 
therefore  at  issue  with  all  the  world.  New  morti- 
fications awaited  her  when  she  reached  the  dining- 
room  :  the  time-piece  indicated  the  hour  of  eleven ! 
and  at  one  end  of  the  long  table  there  was  a  strip  of 
table-cloth  and  preparations  for  the  morning  meal 
of  one  person.  Kate  was  in  another  room,  busy 
with  the  children's  lessons;  Mildred  was  working 
away  at  her  German,  and  Alfred  was  lounging 
about,  too  wearied  and  out  of  sorts  to  set  himself 
to  any  kind  of  employment.  Helen  was  with 
her  mother,  who  always  breakfasted  in  her  own 
chamber. 


78  THE  LILLIKGSTONES. 

"Hallo,  Bertha!"  cried  Alfred,  when  she  made 
her  appearance,  "better  late  than  never.  Milly, 
allow  me  to  introduce  the  late  Miss  Bertha  Lil- 
lingstone !" 

"  I  beg  you  will  not  be  ridiculous,"  returned 
Bertha;  "I  overslept  myself,  and  there  is  an  end 
of  it.  I  am  not  in  the  habit  of  rising  at  this  hour." 
And  she  rang  the  bell  somewhat  sharply. 

Sarah  soon  appeared  with  the  coffee  and  a  plate  of 
carefully  preserved  toast,  which  Bertha  ordered  her 
to  take  away ;  and  it  was  a  question  which  looked 
the  gloomier — the  young  lady  or  the  domestic. 
Bertha  sat  down  to  her  coffee  in  most  unamiable 
mood,  wondering  that  no  one  had  taken  the  trouble 
to  awake  her,  supposing  they  had  all  been  later 
than  they  cared  to  own,  and  upbraiding  Mildred 
for  stooping  so  awkwardly  over  her  exercise  book. 
Milly  drew  herself  up,  and  smiled  cheerfully,  but 
only  to  call  down  further  reproaches — her  collar  was 
all  awry,  her  curls  in  disorder,  and  her  right-hand 
fingers  steeped  in  ink. 

"I  always  do  ink  myself,"  returned  Mildred, 
plaintively.  "I  had  not  written  three  lines  before 
my  forefinger  was  soaked.  How  is  it,  Bertha  ?  I 
have  seen  you  write  whole  sheets  without  a  spot." 

"The  matter  is  very  simple,"  replied  Bertha, 
with  a  superior  air ;  "it  does  not  require  any  great 
amount  of  sagacity  to  perceive  that  you  hold  your 
pen  too  near  the  nib ;  added  to  which,  you  plunge 


"THE  CAMPBELLS  ARE  COMING."         79 

it  continually  to  the  very  bottom  of  the  ink-stand. 
But  you  will  never  alter  these  things ;  I  am  sure 
you  would  not  be  quite  happy  if  your  hands  and 
dress,  and  your  property  generally,  were  in  anything 
like  order  !  Your  untidiness  grows  upon  you." 

"Oh,  Bertha!"  cried  Mildred,  really  distressed ; 
11  you  do  not  know  how  I  have  striven  with  my  bad 
habits.  All  this  year  I  have  been  keeping  watch 
over  myself,  and  I  thought,  I  did  think,  I  was  a 
little  better.  Mamma  said  so,  and  so  did  Katty." 

"And  you  are  better,  Milly,"  interposed  Alfred. 
"  Don't  be  discouraged ;  I  wish  Bertha  had  taken  as 
much  pains  to  correct  her  faults  as  you  have,  but  I 
really  think  she  is  crosser  and  more  disagreeable 
than  ever.  Now,  don't  fly  into  a  passion,  Bertha, 
you  know  I  speak  truly  ;  you  criticise  the  doings  of 
those  around  you  till  you  become  a  real  nuisance  in 
the  house,  while  your  own  actions,  often  of  very 
doubtful  complexion,  remain  unquestioned  !  If  you 
would  only  reform  yourself,  and  leave  us,  including 
that  everlasting  culprit,  Milly,  to  reform  ourselves, 
I  think  there  might  be  a  chance  of  an  amicable 
arrangement ! " 

"  If  people  cannot  bear  to  be  told  of  their  faults — " 
began  Bertha ;  but  Alfred  stopped  her. 

"  Bertha,  for  mercy's  sake  do  not  talk  such  auda- 
cious humbug !  Is  there  any  if  in  the  business  ?  is 
there  anything  you  dislike  more  than  being  blamed, 
or  feeling  yourself  open  to  censure  ?  " 


80  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

"I  do  dislike  it,"  returned  Bertha,  candidly; 
11  and  I  will  tell  you  the  reason.  You  always  blame 
me  with  so  much  asperity ;  you  seem  so  glad  when 
you  can  find  an  opportunity  for  dilating  on  my  bad 
qualities.  You  are  glad  to  see  me  tripping,  if  not 
falling." 

"  Bertha,  people  who  persist  in  walking  on  stilts 
must  always  expect  an  outcry  and  little  charity  when 
they  chance  to  come  to  the  ground." 

"  I  do  not  understand  you,"  she  said,  coldly.  "  I 
am  not  conscious  of  wishing  to  exalt  myself  above 
others.  Of  course  I  am  imperfect ;  I  do  wrong 
occasionally,  like  my  fellow-creatures ! " 

"  Yes ;  once  a  week  you  call  yourself  a  miserable 
sinner !  And  I  dare  say  you  are  ready  at  this  very 
moment  to  confess  yourself  a  sinner  in  the  aggre- 
gate ;  but  lay  any  one  sin  to  your  charge,  and  you 
indignantly  rebut  the  accusation !" 

Bertha  had  finished  her  breakfast,  so  she  rose  up 
to  go  away,  not  sorry  to  escape  the  lecture  which 
her  own  propensity  for  lecturing  had  brought 
upon  her.  But  Mildred  also  sprang  up,  and 
said — 

"Now,  Bertha  dear!  don't  go  away  and  you 
shall  not  be  teased  any  more.  I  am  sorry  I  was 
vexed ;  but  indeed,  I  have  tried  very  hard  to  be 
neat  and  orderly ;  nice  and  clever,  like  you,  I  can 
never  be,  but  I  may  get  to  be  tolerably  tidy  in 
time!" 


"THE  CAMPBELLS  ARE  COMING."         81 

"  Yes,  I  hope  so,"  returned  Bertha,  coldly;  "I 
am  not  angry  with  you,  Milly ;  indeed,  I  am  not 
angry  with  any  one ;  I  am  only  hurt !  Let  me  go, 
please." 

But  Milly  held  her  faster,  and  being  much  the 
taller  and  the  stronger  of  the  two,  she  managed  to 
retain  her  capture. 

"Indeed,  you  mustn't  go,  Bertha,  there  is  no  fire 
anywhere  else  but  in  mamma's  room,  and  in  the 
kitchen,  and  in  the  little  study  where  the  children 
are  doing  their  lessons ;  besides,  I  have  some  news 
for  you — guess  now  what  it  is  ?  " 

"How  can  I  ?  Some  stupid  piece  of  Oldminster 
gossip !  Is  Miss  Golding  going  to  be  married ;  or 
has  Mrs.  Armstrong  given  her  new  cook  warning ;  or 
has  Mrs.  Miller  her  twelfth  baby  born  ?  " 

-•  No ;  none  of  these  things  !  It  is  a  piece  of 
news,  not  gossip ;  and  it  concerns  no  one  in  Oldmin- 
ster but  ourselves." 

"Well!  what  is  it?  I  have  no  time  to  stay 
guessing  any  longer !  " 

"Aunt  Campbell  is  coming!"  Bertha's  face 
lighted  up.  "  And  that  is  not  all :  Eric  and  Janet 
are  coming  with  her ;  and  she  has  asked  permission 
of  mamma  to  take  back  with  her  the  two  of  us  who 
can  be  best  spared  ?  " 

"  I  am  very  glad !  "  replied  Bertha,  earnestly  but 
quietly.  "  I  was  quite  afraid  we  were  to  lose  sight 
of  our  relations  altogether  ;  and  I  must  say  I  have 


82  THE  LILLINGSTONES. 

blamed  aunt  and  uncle  Campbell  decidedly  for  not 
paying  us  more  attention,  and  mamma  Lady  Camp- 
bell's own  sister !  " 

"  I  think  we  are  scarcely  justified  in  blaming 
them,"  interposed  Alfred,  with  more  moderation 
than  he  had  yet  shown  towards  Bertha ;  "  you  girls, 
perhaps,  do  not  know  that  Uncle  Campbell  suffered 
severely  by  poor  papa's  losses,  and  yet  to  him  we 
almost  owe  our  present  position.  If  it  had  not  been 
for  his  name  and  influence,  and  for  the  sacrifices  he 
so  generously  made,  the  moderate  income  we  enjoy 
would  never  have  been  secured  to  us.  You,  Bertha, 
and  the  rest  of  you,  would  either  be  toiling  now  as 
governesses,  or  enduring  all  the  untold  miseries  of 
dependency  on  relations,  and  I  must  have  tried  my 
luck  in  any  situation  that  was  likely  to  afford  me  a 
living!  So,  pray,  don't  say  a  word  against  Uncle 
Campbell." 

"How  good  and  kind  of  him!"  cried  Mildred. 
"  I  wish  he  were  coming  too ;  but  I  wonder  what 
Aunt  Campbell  is  like.  I  have  never  seen  her  since 
I  was  a  little  girl;  and  I  wonder  how  old  Janet 
is  ?  Eric  must  be  quite  grown  up — older  than  you, 
Alfred!" 

"  Janet,  I  should  say,  is  about  your  own  age; 
Eric  must  be  past  twenty- one — oh !  more,  he  was 
born  before  mamma  was  married;  Aunt  Campbell 
is  the  elder  sister." 

"  And  when  do  they  come,  and  how  did  you  hear 


"THE  CAMPBELLS  ARE  COMING/'         83 

about  it?  "  asked  Bertha,  her  coldness  thawing,  and 
her  ill-temper  diminishing  every  minute. 

"  In  answer  to  your  first  question,  they  come  in 
about  a  fortnight ;  they  stay  several  weeks,  and  then 
aunt  and  Eric  go  on  to  London  to  visit  the  old  Lady 
Campbell ;  and  Janet,  I  believe,  is  to  stay  with  us, 
because  she  is  too  young  to  go  into  society;  and 
aunt  means  to  be  very  gay,  for  she  intends  visiting 
all  her  old  friends,  and  she  would  not  like  to  leave 
Janet  without  a  companion." 

"  How  very  pleasant !  It  will  be  something  like 
old  times  to  prepare  for  visitors  again.  And  it  will 
be  delightful  to  associate  once  more  with  young 
people  of  our  own  rank  in  life.  But  you  have  not 
told  me  yet  how  you  came  by  the  news." 

' '  It  came  simply  enough,  by  post !  Mamma  had 
a  letter  from  aunt  this  morning,  containing  all,  and 
more  than  all,  the  intelligence  I  have  given  you ; 
and  when  she  had  read  it  herself,  she  considerately 
sent  it  down  for  our  perusal.  And  if  you  had  not 
been  fast  asleep,  you  would  have  heard  the  gabble 
we  made  over  it,  and  the  innumerable  questions  we 
asked  Katty  and  Helen,  who,  being  the  most  ancient 
among  us,  remember  aunt  and  Eric  the  best.  As 
to  our  cousin  Janet,  no  one  seems  to  know  anything 
about  her;  but  Kate  says,  she  remembers  a  lady 
who  was  going  to  be  Miss  Campbell's  governess 
stopping  one  night  at  Lillingstone  on  her  journey 
into  Scotland ;  and  in  some  way  or  other,  we  have 
G  2 


84  THE  LILLINGSTONES. 

received  the  impression  that  Janet  is  wonderfully 
clever,  angelically  good,  and  resplendently  beau- 
tifnl ! " 

"  That  remains  to  be  seen,"  replied  the  matter-of- 
fact  Bertha.  She  did  not  care  about  her  cousin 
Janet's  pre- supposed  goodness,  and  she  had  no  par- 
ticular objection  to  talent ;  but  she  was  by  no  means 
pleased  at  the  idea  of  a  rival  beauty,  for  Bertha  was 
thoroughly  conscious  of  her  own  charms,  and  she 
duly  appreciated  every  perfection,  from  her  rippling 
golden  hair  to  her  tiny  foot,  that  a  Frenchwoman 
might  have  envied. 

"I  wonder  if  they  are  very  Scotch!"  said  Hil- 
drcd,  while  Bertha  was  still  debating  within  herself 
the  likelihood  of  her  cousin's  claims  to  beauty  being 
superior  to  her  own. 

"I  should  think  they  are  as  Scotch  as  they  can 
be,"  replied  Alfred.  "Lady  Campbell  is  English 
by  birth,  as  you  know;  but  she  has  lived  up  in 
those  savage  Highlands  ever  since  she  was  married, 
and  our  cousins  have  been  little  in  England ;  indeed, 
I  believe  Janet  has  never  been  south  of  the  Tweed 
in  her  life!" 

"  Whatever  her  looks  may  be,"  thought  Bertha, 
"  she  will  have  no  manner,  no  style.  I  need  not 
fear  to  compete  with  her.  I  wonder  what  Eric  will 
think  of  me?"  Then  aloud,  "Well!  since  we  are 
to  have  visitors,  I  hope  we  shall  go  out  a  little 
more;  the  Armstrongs  are  always  asking  us,  and 


"THE  CAMPBELLS  ABE  COMING."         85 

I  should  not  mind  accepting  Mrs.  Golding's  invita- 
tion to  dinner.  She  is  very  well  connected,  I  know ; 
Mrs.  Golding's  first  cousin  married  a  daughter 
of " 

"  Now  don't,  Bertha !  Who  cares  whether  Mrs. 
Golding's  relations  are  patricians  or  plebeians?" 

"/care!  There  is  no  worse  mistake  than  to 
cultivate  people  whose  antecedents  are  inferior,  or 
whose  connections  are  vulgar  !" 

"  £To  worse  mistake  ?     Oh,  my  dear  Bertha ! " 

"  Well,  I  do  not -wish  to  dispute  about  it;  it  is 
enough  for  me  to  know  that  Mrs.  Golding  is  really 
visitable.  What  I  am  anxious  for  is  that  mamma 
should  respond  a  little  to  the  advances  of  our 
friends;  and  there  are  some  ' county  families  J  too, 
that  I  have  reason  to  know  would  be  glad  of  our 
acquaintance." 

"  There  are  the  Harrops,  I  know ;  they  left  their 
cards;  but  as  we  have  no  carriage,  returning  the 
call  was  impossible.  I  suppose  you  would  not  like 
walking  ten  or  twelve  miles  in  order  to  reciprocate 
the  civilities  of  county  families  ?" 

"  I  suppose  there  are  carriages  to  be  hired  in 
Oldminster!" 

"Undoubtedly;  but  they  cost  money — a  com- 
modity with  which,  unluckily,  we  are  but  scantily 
supplied.  We  must  relinquish  the  county  families 
at  present!" 

"Yery  well!"  returned  Bertha;  but  she  made  a 


86  THE   LILL1NGSTONES. 

secret  reservation,  to  the  effect  that  ere  she  was 
another  year  older  she  would  try  if  tact  and  address 
would  not  supply  the  lack  of  money,  "for  the 
sake  of  the  others,"  she  said  to  herself,  compla- 
cently. "Not  only  in  justice  to  myself,  but  on 
account  of  Katty  and  Helen — and  really  Helen  is  a 
graceful  creature! — I  am  determined  to  make  an 
effort  to  recover  our  proper  position  in  society.  As 
for  waiting  till  we  go  hack  to  Lillingstone,  as  Alfred 
promises,  that's  simply  absurd !  If  we  wait  here 
apathetically  till  that  time  comes  we  shall  be  too 
old  to  reap  much  benefit  from  the  restoration. 
Katty  and  Helen  ought  to  be  introduced  at  once! 
It's  very  disagreeable ;  but  I  suppose  it  would  be 
bad  taste  and  bad  policy  to  have  three  Miss  Lilling- 
stones  out  at  once !  It  is  of  no  consequence  about 
Milly ;  she  is  sure  never  to  marry  ;  she  gets  plainer 
every  day!" 

Such  were  Bertha's  cogitations  while  Mildred  and 
Alfred  further  discussed  the  expected  visit.  She 
was  roused  by  the  entrance  of  Katharine,  who  had 
completed  her  morning's  duties  with  "Walter  and 
Alice ;  and  to  her  she  immediately  appealed. 

"Katty  dear!  surely  we  shall  have  a  party  or 
two,  and  see  a  little  more  society  while  our  aunt 
and  cousins  are  with  us !  Now  that  we  have  laid 
aside  our  deep  mourning,  there  can  be  no  objection 
to  our  going  out." 

"  Except  the  means,"  returned  Kate.     "  "Visiting 


"THE  CAMPBELLS  ARE  COMING."        87 

is  very  expensive  work,  dear  Bertha.  "We  should 
have  to  spend  three  times  as  much  on  dress  as  we 
do  now,  if  we  went  to  parties,  and  gave  them — 
which  would  be  a  matter  of  course — in  return." 

"  We  could  contrive"  said  Bertha,  earnestly;  "at 
least  /  could.  Only  let  us  begin  to  go  out  as  befits 
our  age  and  station,  and  I  will  answer  for  the 
rest!" 

"But  you  are  too  young,  Bertha!"  interposed 
Mildred.  "  Mamma  has  always  said  she  had  no 
notion  of  girls  coming  out  till  they  were  eighteen, 
and  you  are  not  quite  seventeen,  you  know." 

"Ah  well!  that  objection  will  melt  away  every 
day.  One  soon  gets  over  excess  of  youth ;  besides, 
I  am  thinking  more  of  the  future  than  of  the 
present.  But  I  want  to  see  Aunt  Campbell's  letter; 
where  is  it?" 

"  Mamma  has  it.  Helen  took  it  back  to  her  after 
breakfast." 

"  Then  I  will  go  and  ask  for  it  at  once."  And 
away  went  Bertha  upstairs. 

"  I  do  believe  she  is  a  born  schemer  and  match- 
maker!" said  Alfred,  laughing. 

"Hush!"  cried  both  his  sisters,  and  Mildred 
added,  "You  are  not  quite  just  to  Bertha,  Alfred; 
you  make  the  worst  of  her,  and  you  provoke  her 
very  much ! " 


88 


THE  LILLINGSTONES. 


CHAPTER  YII. 

SUNDAY-SCHOOL   TEACHEKS. 

BEETHA  was  doomed  that  day  to  endure  mortifica- 
tions. Everything  went  wrong,  and  the  late  rising, 
by  throwing  duties  behindhand,  involved  irritations 
and  discomfiture  till  the  evening.  But  during  the 
afternoon,  her  self-appreciation  received  a  blow 
which  came  neither  from  tardiness  nor  neglect. 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Herbert  called,  and  it  so  happened 
that  Katty  alone  was  in  the  drawing-room  when 
they  came.  After  some  general  conversation,  Mr. 
Herbert  remarked  that  he  had  come  that  afternoon 
on  a  special  errand ;  and  his  wife  smiled,  and  bade 
Katty  guess  what  her  pastor's  special  business 
could  possibly  be. 

"Is  it  the  flannel  subscription?"  asked  Katty; 
trying  to  recollect  how  much  money  she  had  in  her 
own  little  purse. 

"  No,  Miss  Lillingstone ;  I  am  come  to  beg,  cer- 
tainly, but  it  is  not  for  money.  I  want  help  in 
the  Sunday-school ;  I  am  losing  some  of  my  best 


SUNDAY-SCHOOL   TEACHERS.  89 

teachers,  and  I  am  here  this  afternoon  hoping  to 
recruit  my  forces !  " 

"  I  do  not  know,"  began  Kate  rather  nervously, 
"  but  I  am  afraid  mamma  would  not  like  me  to  be 
away  from  the  children  on  Sunday." 

"  That  probability  occurred  to  us  as  we  talked  it 
over,"  replied  Mrs.  Herbert,  "  and  we  decided,  that 
valuable  as  your  services  would  be,  we  had  no  right 
to  ask  them,  since  your  first  duty  is  unquestionably 
with  your  own  family.  We  would  not,  on  any  ac- 
count, take  you  from  Walter  and  Alice,  who  I  know 
depend  upon  you  for  instruction  on  the  Sabbath- 
day  ;  but  we  thought  one  of  your  sisters  might 
probably  be  induced  to  give  her  time  and  her 
energies  to  this  high  and  holy  work." 

"  And  I  thought  of  Mildred,"  said  Mr.  Herbert; 
"she  is  young,  certainly;  not  more  than  fifteen,  I 
believe ;  but  from  all  that  I  have  seen  of  her,  I 
cannot  doubt  that  she  has  made  the  great  decision, 
and  given  herself  to  Christ ;  and  if  such  be  the  case, 
she  will  be  glad  to  avail  herself  of  the  opportunity  ; 
she  will  heartily  respond  to  the  call,  and  work 
humbly  and  trustfully  in  her  Master's  vineyard." 

Katty's  eyes  brightened  :  appreciation  of  Milly 
was  very  sweet  and  precious  to  her  sisterly  heart, 
and  she  hastened  to  say,  * '  Yes,  dear  Milly  has  for 
some  months  past  been  striving  diligently,  and  in 
dependence  upon  the  only  source  of  strength,  to  walk 
in  the  way  to  heaven.  I  think,  if  mamma  does  not 


90  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

object,  she  will  be  very  glad  to  respond  to  your  kind 
invitation — but  here  she  comes  !  " 

Mildred  at  that  moment  entered  the  room,  accom- 
panied by  Bertha  ;  the  former  shyly,  and  rather 
awkwardly,  and  the  latter  gracefully,  accosted  the 
pastor  and  his  wife.  Mr.  Herbert  immediately 
reverted  to  the  subject,  by  observing  that  he  was 
in  some  perplexity  about  the  arrangements  of  his 
Sunday-school ;  that  several  of  his  best  teachers  were 
leaving  Oldminster,  and  that  it  behoved  him  to  beat 
up  for  recruits  in  the  service. 

Milly' s  heart  throbbed  almost  painfully ;  Sunday- 
school  teaching  was  the  acme  of  her  desires ;  but  in 
her  humility  and  perfect  lowliness  of  heart,  she 
never  imagined  that  she  would  be  permitted,  much 
less  asked,  to  engage  in  so  blessed  a  work.  Most 
genuine,  therefore,  was  her  surprise,  when  Mr. 
Herbert  said,  "Your  sister  leads  me  to  hope,  Miss 
Milly,  that  you  will  kindly  help  us  in  this  way ;  and 
as  I  trust  you  have  already  given  your  own  heart 
to  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  I  think  you  will  feel  it  a 
joy  and  a  privilege  to  try  to  lead  the  little  children 
into  the  pleasant  pastures  of  the  Good  Shepherd  !" 

Milly  was  silent  from  pure  embarrassment,  but 
her  eyes  were  bright,  and  the  colour  rose  to  her  pale 
cheeks,  and  at  length  she  faltered  out — "  If  mamma 
will  let  me — if  you  think  I  am  fit — if  Katty  thinks 
I  know  enough." 

Mr.  Herbert  was  deeply  touched  by  the  young 


SUNDAY-SCHOOL  TEACHERS.  91 

girl's  unaffected  humility.  In  her  dewy,  downcast 
eyes,  and  in  her  faltering  speech,  he  read  the  tokens 
of  her  distrust  of  her  own  worthiness  ;  he  knew 
that  with  one  hand  she  was  ready  to  grasp  the 
privilege  with  joy  and  thankfulness,  while  with  the 
other  she  would  put  from  her  an  honour  which  she 
felt  was  far  beyond  her  deserts. 

After  a  while  she  resumed — "  Eut,  Mr.  Herbert, 
I  am  not  sure  that  I  ought  to  be  a  Sunday-school 
teacher ;  I  have  learnt  so  little  myself,  I  am  so  care- 
less, and  so  indolent ;  had  I  not  better  leave  it  till 
I  have  in  some  measure  conquered  my  faults  ?" 

"I  think,"  he  answered,  "the  very  act  of  en- 
gaging in  Sunday  work  will  help  you.  The  respon- 
sibilities you  will  inevitably  assume  must  lead  you 
to  think  more  seriously  of  the  conflict  to  which,  as 
God's  child,  you  are  pledged.  Your  anxiety  for 
your  charge  will  make  you  more  jealous  of  yourself, 
and  you  will  be  lead  to  combat  faults  which  hitherto 
you  have  only  partially  recognised.  I  do  not  think 
it  possible  to  be  truly  in  earnest  about  the  souls  of 
others,  without  deeper  and  closer  self-examination, 
and  renewed  efforts  to  walk  in  the  paths  of  holiness. 
But,  of  course,  I  am  speaking  now  of  Christian 
teachers  only.  I  firmly  believe  that  Sunday-school 
teaching  is  calculated  to  harden  the  heart  of  the 
unconverted  teacher.  There  is  but  one  position 
more  awful,  and,  humanly  speaking,  more  hopeless, 
— that  of  an  unconverted  minister  of  God's  Word  ! 


92  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

But  you,  my  child " — and  lie  spoke  with  great 
kindness  and  tenderness — "you,  I  have  reason  to 
hope,  have  chosen  the  hetter  part ;  you  are  wishing 
and  longing  to  how  to  the  glory  of  God,  and  of  His 
Son  Jesus  Christ.  Is  it  not  so  ?  " 

"  I  love  the  Lord  Jesus  :  I  wish  to  serve  him  :  I 
want  to  ohey  His  commands ! "  returned  Milly,  in 
a  low,  clear  voice;  "hut  often,  so  very  often,  I 
forget  whose  I  am,  and  who  I  profess  to  serve,  and 
my  life  is  not  that  of  a  true  Christian.  And  yet — 
I  am  sure  of  one  thing — I  would  give  anything  to 
he  ahle  to  he  really  consistent ! " 

"  St.  Paul  said,  <  I  find,  then,  a  law,  that  when  I 
would  do  good,  evil  is  present  with  me ;  for  I  delight 
in  the  law  of  God,  after  the  inward  man;  hut  I 
see  another  law  in  my  memhers,  waning  against 
the  law  of  my  mind,  and  hringing  me  into  captivity 
to  the  law  of  sin,  which  is  in  my  members.  0 
wretched  man  that  I  am!  who  shall  deliver  me 
from  the  body  of  this  death  ? '  So  you  see  your 
complaint  is  one  that  Christians  of  old  were  fain  to 
make ;  and  from  their  experience  you  should  learn, 
while  at  the  same  time  you  are  deeply  humbled  for 
sin,  and  earnestly  desirous  to  be  a  new  creature  in 
Christ  Jesus,  not  to  be  weary  in  well-doing,  and 
not  to  slacken  in  any  work  of  usefulness  to  which 
it  has  pleased  God  to  call  you." 

All  this  time  Bertha  sat  silently  listening  to  the 
words  of  her  pastor.  She  was  not  pleased :  she 


SUNDAY-SCHOOL  TEACHERS.  93 

thought  it  was  a  piece  of  Kate's  unjust  partiality  to 
bring  Mildred  forward  to  the  exclusion  of  herself. 
"What  could  a  girl  of  fifteen  know  about  the  duties 
of  a  Sunday-school  teacher  ?  And  how  could  Milly, 
with  her  carelessness,  her  roughness,  and  her  occa- 
sional fits  of  indolence,  be  fitted  for  an  office  that 
required,  as  a  matter  of  course,  the  utmost  steadi- 
ness, prudence,  and  persevering  industry  ? 

So  when  there  was  a  pause,  Bertha  said  gently 
and  modestly,  "  And  I,  also,  should  be  most  happy 
to  take  a  share  in  so  good  and  delightful  a  work. 
If  you  see  fit  to  give  me  a  class,  I  will  do  my  utmost 
for  the  improvement  and  well-being  of  the  children 
committed  to  my  "charge." 

Bertha  doubted  not  that  Mr.  Herbert  would  im- 
mediately, and  with  grateful  thanks,  accept  her 
offer;  for  it  seemed  to  her  that  her  undeviating 
propriety  of  demeanour,  her  gravity,  and  her  general 
habits  of  decision  and  self-control,  exactly  fitted  her  • 
for  the  post  she  desired  to  occupy.  To  her  amaze- 
ment, Mr.  Herbert  did  not  seem  at  all  delighted, 
neither  did  he  express  the  gratification  which  she 
had  supposed  her  voluntary  proposal  would  call 
forth.  He  was  silent  for  nearly  a  minute  :  then  he 
said,  "  My  dear  Miss  Bertha,  have  you  counted  the 
cost  ?  Do  you  know  what  you  wish  to  undertake  ?  " 

"I  hope  so,  I  think  so!  "  she  replied,  in  a  tone 
that  betrayed  through  all  its  quiet  gentleness  some 
slight  emotion  of  displeasure ;  and  in  her  heart  she 


94  THE  LILLINGSTONES. 

wondered  what  lie  meant ;  for  the  bare  sacrifice  of 
her  leisure,  and  the  victimising  of  her  dress,  was 
all  that  flashed  across  her  mind  when  he  spoke  of 
the  "cost!" 

"And  you  recognise  the  great  end  of  Sunday- 
school  instruction?" 

"Certainly  I  do  !"  and  seeing  that  he  waited  to 
hear  more,  she  continued — "It  is  not  only  to 
make  children  acquainted  with  the  history  of  the 
Bible,  and  to  teach  them  hymns  and  catechisms, 
but  it  is  to  exhort  them  to  lead  a  religious  life,  and 
to  show  them  their  duty,  both  as  regards  this  world 
and  the  next." 

Mr.  Herbert  was  puzzled.  Bertha  had  given  an 
excellent  exposition  of  the  question  he  propounded ; 
but  he  felt  convinced  in  his  own  mind  that  her 
ideas  of  Christianity  were  far  from  those  he  would 
have  wished  to  be  certified  were  hers  in  very  truth 
and  deed ;  and  how  far  she  was  fitted  to  be  a 
teacher  he  could  not  determine. 

"My  dear  child!"  he  said,  affectionately  taking 
her  hand,  ' 1 1  would  condense  what  you  have  said 
into  one  sentence — the  great  end  of  Sunday-school 
teaching  is  to  make  good  soldiers  for  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ !  Have  you  enlisted  under  the  banners  of 
the  King  of  kings  ?  Do  you  with  your  lips,  and  in 
your  heart,  call  Him  Lord  and  Master?  Are  you 
willing  to  give  up  the  world,  and  to  yield  yourself 
body  and  soul  as  a  faithful  servant  unto  your  life's 


SUNDAY-SCHOOL   TEACHERS.  95 

end  ?  If  this  be  tlie  case,  come  then,  and  work  in 
the  Lord's  vineyard;  nurse  the  children  for  Him, 
and  He  will  give  you  your  wages.  But  if  not — if 
the  love  of  Christ  is  not  the  supreme  emotion  of 
your  heart,  then  stand  still,  and  make  for  yourself 
the  momentous  decision;  seek  your  own  salvation 
rather  than  preach  to  others  the  Gospel  which  you 
have  not  yet  received  V 

Bertha  was  silent,  partly  from  embarrassment, 
partly  from  annoyance ;  she  felt  that  some  answer 
was  expected  ;  but  never  in  her  life  had  she  found 
it  so  difficult  to  speak.  That  she  tvas  a  Christian 
she  had  no  manner  of  doubt.  Had  she  not  always 
attended  strictly  to  religious  duties  ?  Did  she  ever 
pass  a  day  without  her  regular  Bible  reading  ?  Did 
she  not  reverently  participate  in  all  the  ordinances 
of  the  Church  to  which  she  belonged  ? 

Still,  there  was  something  which  she  could  not 
and  did  not  seek  to  understand.  She  could  not  help 
feeling  that  Mr.  Herbert's  and  her  own  estimate  of 
Christianity  were  widely  different.  She  could  not 
help  seeing  that  her  sisters  Katharine  and  Mildred 
were  actuated  by  some  secret  principle  of  which  she 
was  entirely  ignorant ;  and  she  was  almost  convinced 
in  her  inmost  heart  that  the  standard  of  Christianity 
proposed  by  her  pastor,  and  followed  by  many  very 
excellent  people,  was  not  that  towards  which  she 
herself  was  pressing.  At  length  she  said  in  a  cold, 
respectful  tone,  "I  believe  I  have  made  the  decision 


06  THE  LILLINGSTONES. 

to  which  you  refer ;  I  have  long  since  seen  the  error 
and  the  wickedness  of  a  life  without  religion.  It 
is  my  wish  to  make  the  profession,  and  to  lead  the 
life,  of  a  Christian !  " 

"I  am  glad  to  hear  you  say  so!"  replied  Mr. 
Herbert  gently ;  "and  may  the  God  and  Father  of 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  grant  you  His  Holy  Spirit, 
to  guide  you  into  all  truth ;  and  may  you  be  kept 
firm  in  the  faith,  humble  and  meek,  and  pure  from 
the  evil  that  is  in  the  world !  It  is  no  light  matter 
to  call  one's  self  by  the  holy  name  of  Christian ! " 

Bertha  wondered  whether  he  would  have  asked 
for  Mildred  the  graces  of  humility  and  meekness : 
she  had  a  lurking  suspicion,  that  notwithstanding 
her  decided  avowal,  he  yet  stood  in  doubt  of  her, 
and  while  her  fair  face  wore  its  ordinary  calm 
gravity,  her  bosom  glowed  with  irrepressible  resent- 
ment. 

Presently  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Herbert  rose  to  go ;  and 
just  as  they  were  taking  leave,  Mrs.  Lillingstone 
made  her  appearance.  To  her,  at  once,  the  question 
was  referred,  whether  her  two  daughters,  Bertha 
and  Mildred,  might  be  allowed  to  assist  Mrs.  Herbert 
in  the  Sunday-school  as  regular  teachers.  There 
was  cordial  and  immediate  permission,  even  a  regret 
that  their  services  had  not  been  earlier  called  for ; 
and  so  it  was  settled  that  on  the  next  Sunday 
morning  the  sisters  should  commence  their  labours. 

AVhen  they  were  once  more  alone  Bertha  began 


SUNDAY-SCHOOL   TEACHERS.  97 

to  talk  largely  of  plans,  and  systems,  and  model- 
classes,  while  Mildred  sat  quietly  in  the  flickering 
firelight,  her  eyes  fixed  intently  on  the  glowing 
embers,  but  her  thoughts  far  away.  And  when 
there  was  a  pause  at  last,  and  Katty  laid  her  hand 
on  her  bowed  head,  and  asked  her  what  she  was 
thinking  of,  she  started  and  smiled,  but  did  not 
attempt  to  answer  her  sister's  question.  But  when 
she  was  alone  upstairs  with  Kate  a  little  while 
afterwards,  she  said  earnestly,  "  Oh !  I  hope  I 
have  not  been  doing  wrong !  I  hope  I  shall  not  do 
the  dear  children  any  harm  by  my  careless,  naughty 
ways !  Katty,  you  must  always  make  me  prepare 
their  lessons  in  good  time  beforehand ;  and  you  will 
help  me,  will  you  not?  It  seems  so  strange,  and — 
and — so  out  of  place  for  me  to  be  teaching  any 
one ! " 

"  If  you  need  my  help,  Milly  dear,  most  certainly 
you  shall  have  it,"  replied  Katharine;  "but  as  you 
are  only  called  upon  to  teach  your  scholars  the  very 
plainest  and  simplest  truths,  I  think  you  will  need 
no  aid  of  mine !  And  yet,  simple  and  easy  as  the 
lessons  you  have  to  give  may  be,  you  will  need  the 
best  help ;  for  it  is  a  momentous  thing  to  talk  to 
the  poorest  and  most  ignorant  child  about  the  salva- 
tion of  its  immortal  soul ! " 

"It  is  a  very  solemn  thing!"  returned  Mildred 
with  deep  earnestness ;  "so  solemn  that  I  am  almost 
afraid  to  think  what  I  have  undertaken;  but  the 

H 


98  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

work  was  brought  to  me,  I  did  not  seek  it  out  for 
myself,  and  therefore  I  dared  not  refuse.  Besides, 
I  have  so  often  wished  I  could  he  of  some  use  in 
the  world!" 

"  And  you  have  the  best  help ! " 

"  Yes ;  and  so,  if  I  do  not  trust  at  all  to  myself, 
I  may  hope  to  do  something.  I  can  always  pray 
for  my  children  when  I  pray  for  myself.  And  oh, 
Katty  dear,  do  help  me  to  watch  against  my  faults ! 
I  am  afraid  Bertha  is  right ;  after  all,  I  have  really 
made  very  little  progress.  And  now  that  I  am 
going  to  be  a  Sunday-school  teacher,  I  must  strive 
harder  than  ever,  or  else  how  can  I  preach  to  others 
about  duties  when  I  neglect  my  own  ?  How  can  I 
tell  the  children  of  the  evil  I  see  in  their  conduct, 
when  I  know  there  is  so  much,  rampant  and  un- 
checked, in  my  own  character  ?  It  would  be  down- 
right hypocrisy,  you  know.  I  couldn't  do  it,  you 
know.  I  couldn't  say  a  word!" 

•"I  think,  dear  Milly,  you  have  made  great  pro- 
gress since  we  came  to  Oldminster.  There  is  much 
to  be  done,,  and  you  have  hard  work  yet  to  do; 
but  the  war  is  not  over  in  a  day  or  a  year.  You 
—  we  must  all,  be  thankful  for  the  past,  and  go 
on  to  watch  and  pray  that  we  do  not  fall  into 
temptation." 

"And  another  thing — I  am  so  stupid  when  I 
really  know  things ;  and  I  have  no  method.  When 
I  have  tried  in  vain  to  arrange  matters  for  I  don't 


SUNDAY-SCHOOL   TEACHERS.  .99 

know  how  long,  Bertha  comes  in,  and  with  a  look 
and  a  touch  or  two  sets  all  right  at  once.  I  am 
afraid,  even  in  the  lowest  sense,  I  shall  make  a  bad 
teacher!" 

"I  think  that  need  not  distress  yon,  for  there 
will  probably  be  rules  for  teachers  as  well  as  children, 
and  you  know  Mrs.  Herbert  so  well  that  you  will 
never  feel  shy  with  her,  and  you  can  always  refer  to 
her  when  you  are  in  any  uncertainty." 

"  And  I  am  sure  you  may  come  to  me  whenever 
you  like,"  said  Bertha,  who  had  entered  the  room 
just  in  time  to  hear  Mildred  deploring  her  lack  of 
method  and  her  want  of  tact.  "  I  shall  always  be 
ready  to  help  you,  dear  Milly,  whenever  the  slightest 
difficulty  occurs." 

"  Thank  you!"  replied  Milly,  sincerely  grateful 
for  Bertha's  promised  patronage. 


H  2 


100  THE  LILLINGSTONES. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

SCOTCH   COUSINS. 

"!T  snows  harder  than  ever!"  cried  Alice,  one 
afternoon,  just  before  Christmas,  as  she  sat  in  the 
deep  window-seat  with  her  doll,  watching  the 
falling  of  the  flaky  shower.  ""Walter!  do  you 
think  they  will  come  ?" 

"Come?  To  be  sure  they  will.  When  people 
are  going  two  hundred  and  eighty  miles  to  spend 
Christmas  with  their  relations,  they  don't  mind  a 
sprinkle  of  snow!" 

"A  sprinkle,  indeed!  "Why,  Walter,  the  Trenton 
Hills  have  been  white  all  over  for  three  days,  and  this 
morning  they  looked  like  the  great  Twelfth-cake  in 
Jones's  window!" 

"  They'll  come,  you'll  see !  They  are  used  to 
snow!  "Why,  you  silly  child,  if  they  kept  in  for 
snow  they  wouldn't  go  out  ten  times  in  the 
year!" 

"  Does  it  snow  in  Scotland  all  the  year  round  ?  " 
asked  Alice,  with  wondering  eyes. 


SCOTCH   COUSINS.  101 

""Why,  no  ;  not  exactly,"  replied  "Walter,  feeling 
that  he  had  made  a  very  broad  statement.  ' '  But, 
you  see,  Alice,  it  is  far  up  in  the  north  where  they 
live,  and  more  snow  falls  in  those  latitudes.  I  dare 
say  now  it  begins  to  snow  about  the  middle  of  Sep- 
tember, and  keeps  on  and  off  till  May,  or  there- 
abouts ! " 

"  How  beautiful ! "  cried  Alice.  "  The  snow  melts 
here  so  fast ;  just  as  I  think  it  is  getting  deep 
enough  to  be  lost  in,  there  comes  a  thaw,  and,  next 
time  I  look,  there  is  nothing  but  mud  and  water  and 
patches  of  dirty  snow !" 

"Where  are  they  all?"  asked  Walter,  after  a 
short  silence.  "  I  have  not  seen  any  one  but  Katty 
since  dinner." 

"  Helen  is  reading  in  the  drawing-room,"  returned 
Alice,  "  and  Katty  is  busy  ;  Hilly  is  helping  Sarah 
with  the  tea-cakes,  and  Bertha  is  dressing." 

"  What  was  Bertha  so  savage  about  this  morn- 
ing?" 

"Which  time  do  you  mean?  She  was  savage 
more  than  once." 

"  Oh !  just  before  dinner.  I  heard  the  knives  and 
forks  rattling,  and  Helen  was  clearing  the  table. 
Mamma  said,  '  I  had  rather  be  consistent,  my  dear ;' 
and  then  Bertha  came  out  and  nearly  ran  over  me, 
and  her  face  and  her  neck  were  red,  like  they  always 
are  when  she  is  in  a  passion  and  doesn't  want  to 
show  it!" 


102  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

"  Oh !  I  know !  it  was  about  Aunt  Campbell. 
Bertha  said  you  and  I,  and  perhaps  Milly,  had 
better  dine  then ;  but  the  regular  dinner  had  better 
be  put  off  till  aunt  and  Eric  and  Janet  came ;  and 
mamma  said,  tea  was  much  nicer  when  people  came 
off  a  long  cold  journey,  and  there  would  be  eggs 
and  ham,  and  cold  meat  and  fowl,  for  the  travellers. 
But  Bertha  thought  it  was  not  right  to  dine  in  the 
middle  of  the  day,  and  she  was  sure  Lady  Campbell 
was  not  accustomed  to  anything  of  the  kind,  and 

she  would  be  surprised  to  find oh !  I  forget  the 

words,  but  she  meant  that  Aunt  Campbell  would 
think  we  were  grown  vulgar,  and  lived  like  common 
people." 

" Bertha  is  a  snob!"  exclaimed  Walter.  "As 
if  the  Lillingstones  of  Lillingstone  could  be  changed 
from  what  they  always  were !  If  we  were  to  dine 
at  eleven  in  the  morning,  and  eat  onion-porridge  for 
supper  at  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  it  could 
make  no  difference  to  us !  Remember  that,  Alice  ; 
and  never  forget  that  you  were  born  a  lady  and  a 
Lillingstone!  It's  horrid  disagreeable  to  be  poor; 
but  poverty  can  never  make  us  vulgar.  I  cannot 
think  where  Bertha  got  such  common  ideas  from ! " 

"  Oh  !  she  will  do  her  hair  so  beautifully  ! "  said 
Alice,  with  a  gesture  of  admiration ;  "  she's  going 
to  do  it  a  new  way — all  plaits  down  in  the  neck, 
and  black  velvet  ends  sticking  to  it !  And  she 
has  worked  herself  a  new  collar,  and  she  is  going  to 


SCOTCH   COUSINS.  103 

wear  the  cameos  that  her  godmother,  Miss  Har- 
rington, left  her ! " 

"  She's  doing  it  extensive,  then  !  I  thought  she 
would,"  said  Walter,  who,  Lillingstone  as  he  was, 
did  not  disdain  a  little  slang  when  it  came  in  his 
way.  "I  say,  Alice,  don't  you  wish  Eric  would 
fall  in  love  with  her  ?  " 

<  No !  I  don't  know.     "Why  ?  " 

<  Why,  you  little  silly  ?     Why,  if  he  fell  in  love 
with  her,  he'd  want  to  many  her,  and  then  she 
would  go  away  and  live   at  Strathallan,   and  we 
should  be  so  quiet  and  jolly  ! " 

Alice  stood  considering.  The  idea  of  one  of  her 
sisters  being  married  had  never  entered  her  young 
imagination.  Indeed,  she  had  not  a  very  clear  notion 
of  the  actual  meaning  of  marriage ;  only,  she  had 
some  idea  that  Confirmation  was  the  first  step  to- 
wards the  holy  estate  of  matrimony.  After  a  while 
she  said,  "Girls  are  never  married,  are  they, 
Walter?" 

"  Aren't  they  ?  You'll  alter  your  tone  some  day, 
Miss  Alice  !  And  if  Bertha  is  only  seventeen  now, 
she  will  grow  older  every  day.  They  will  be  en- 
gaged first,  like  Flora  Golding,  you  know ;  and  after 
a  time  they  will  be  married;  and — and — I  really 
believe,  we  should  never  quarrel  when  Bertha  was 
gone!" 

That  was  more  than  Alice  could  agree  to ;  she 
thought  Walter  could  be  very  cross  sometimes ;  but 


104  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

then  lie  was  kind  and  full  of  fun  generally,  and  she 
fervently  hoped  he  would  not  be  married  just  yet, 
and  leave  her  without  a  playfellow.  She  was 
rather  a  singular  child,  making  from  time  to  time 
precocious  attempts  at  conversation ;  but,  generally 
speaking,  thoughtless,  and  full  of  merriment,  and 
very  apt  to  make  unfortunate  disclosures,  by  catching 
from  one  person  information  never  intended  for  her 
little  ears,  and  then  imparting  it  at  the  first  oppor- 
tunity to  the  individual  concerned. 

On  the  present  occasion  she  was  very  eager  to  tell 
Bertha  what  Walter  had  said  about  her,  and  as 
he  soon  afterwards  ran  out  into  the  garden  to  see 
whether  there  was  any  chance  of  snowballs,  she  was 
left  at  perfect  liberty  to  indulge  her  inclination. 
She  ran  up  stairs  to  the  room  where  Bertha  was 
still  occupied  before  the  glass,  and,  without  further 
parley,  exclaimed,  ' l  Bertha !  should  you  like  to  be 
married?" 

Bertha  felt  for  a  moment  so  transfixed  with  aston- 
ishment, that  she  was  very  near  speaking  the  simple 
truth,  and  an  involuntary  "  yes  "  was  almost  on  her 
lips.  But  she  checked  herself  in  time.  ""What 
do  you  mean,  child?  "  she  said,  sternly.  "  Who  has 
been  teaching  you  to  be  impertinent?  " 

Alice  turned  crimson,  and  felt  at  once  that  she  had 
spoken  unadvisedly.  But  there  was  no  help  for  it 
now  ;  and  she  forthwith  gave  up  her  authority,  and 
told  how  Walter  had  said  he  wished  she  could  be 


SCOTCH   COUSINS.  105 

engaged  like  Flora  Golding,  and  married  to  their 
cousin  Eric !  To  her  extreme  surprise  Bertha  was 
not  angry ;  she  laughed  and  blushed,  and  rearranged 
her  beautiful  braids  of  hair ;  and  finally,  she  put  on 
a  grave  face  and  told  Alice  she  would  not  scold  her 
that  time ;  but  little  girls  ought  never  to  talk  about 
their  sisters  being  married — it  was  very  naughty, 
and  would  make  mamma  extremely  angry.  "  ISTow, 
promise  me,  Allie,"  she  said,  in  conclusion,  "  pro- 
mise me  never  to  say  anything  of  the  kind  again  !" 

Alice,  too  happy  to  escape  the  consequences  of 
her  rash  confidence,  was  glad  enough  to  promise ; 
but  reassured  by  Bertha's  serene  smile,  she  ventured 
to  ask — 

"  Is  it  wicked  to  be  married,  Bertha?" 

"By  no  means!"  replied  her  sister;  "it  is  quite 
right  to  marry  as  soon  as  you  are  properly  grown 
up,  and  when  the  proper  person  asks  you.  But  it 
is  not  a  subject  for  little  girls ;  they  cannot  un- 
derstand it,  and  therefore  they  should  never  talk 
about  it!" 

"But  should  you  like  to  be  married?"  asked 
Alice  again,  with  childish  pertinacity.  She  was 
thinking  how  dreadful  it  would  be  to  be  married 
and  taken  away  to  the  perpetual  snows  of  far-off 
Strathallan. 

"Little  girls  must  not  ask  such  questions!"  re- 
plied Bertha,  fiercely.  "Now,  run  away,  and  play 
with  your  new  doll.  Stay  one  moment,  Alice !  I 


106  THE   LILL1NGSTONES. 

will  brush,  your  hair  again.  Why  do  you  go  flying 
about,  shaking  your  curls  into  such  disorder?" 

While  Alice  was  undergoing  a  thorough  process 
of  straightening,  there  were  sounds  of  arrival  down- 
stairs. The  carriage  rolled  softly  over  the  thick 
carpet  of  snow,  and  the  bell  had  actually  been  rung 
before  any  one  knew  that  the  long-watched-for 
guests  were  really  come  at  last.  Mildred,  who  was 
in  the  front  of  the  house,  shrieked  the  welcome 
news  to  Helen  and  Kate  in  the  drawing-room; 
and  Mrs.  Lillingstone,  hearing  the  disturbance,  ran 
down  stairs,  just  in  time  to  meet  her  sister  on  the 
threshold. 

"Oh,  Kelly!"  "Oh,  Kitty!"  was  all  that  the 
bystanders  heard,  while  the  long-parted  sisters  were 
locked  in  a  long  and  fervent  embrace.  So  occupied 
with  Lady  Campbell  was  the  whole  group,  that  for 
the  moment  they  forgot  their  cousins  Eric  and  Janet, 
till  Katty  was  roused  by  a  manly  voice  and  a 
hearty  shake  of  the  hand  from  the  tall  gentleman 
who  stood  a  little  behind  Lady  Campbell.  And 
then  Helen  seized  upon  Janet,  and  led  her  away  to 
the  cheerful  blaze  in  the  drawing-room,  and  the 
rest  followed,  and  for  a  few  minutes  there  was  a 
perfect  Babel  of  voices,  that  rose  and  rose  till  it 
penetrated  the  upper  regions  of  the  house,  and 
notified  to  Bertha  and  Alice  the  arrival  of  the 
expected  guests. 

Bertha  hurried   over   the  remainder  of   Alice's 


SCOTCH   COUSINS.  107 

ruffled  ringlets,  put  a  few  finishing  touches  to  her 
own  toilet,  and  hastened  down  stairs.  Too  late ! 
she  found  only  Alfred  and  "Walter,  and  the  former 
had  just  escorted  Eric  to  his  room,  while  Mrs.  Lil- 
lingstone  and  her  two  eldest  daughters  were  with 
Lady  Campbell  and  Janet. 

"  Well!"  said  Eertha,  with  rather  less  than  her 
wonted  composure,  "you  have  seen  them,  Alfred?" 

"To  be  sure  I  have!  I  have  just  been  intro- 
ducing Master  Eric  to  his  own  quarters;  and  if 
you  want  to  know  what  he  is  like,  I  really  cannot 
tell  you,  only  he  is  ridiculously  tall ;  but  he's  the 
pleasantest  fellow  I've  seen  this  long  time !  I  felt 
right  glad  to  think  we  call  each  other  cousin.  He 
and  I  will  be  sure  to  get  on,  whether  you  girls  pull 
together  or  not !  " 

"  And  Janet  ?— is  she  pretty  ?  " 

"  That's  more  than  I  know !  I  only  caught  sight 
of  a  pair  of  black,  laughing  eyes  under  a  sort  of 
hood.  She's  tall  too !  What  a  little  thing  you  are, 
Bertha ! " 

Bertha  drew  herself  up,  and  answered  with  seem- 
ing lightness,  "  All  the  better!  I  prefer  cultivating 
quality  to  quantity!  When  there  is  too  much  of 
a  woman  she  is  always  awkward,  to  say  the  least 
of  it." 

"A  comfortable  doctrine  for  little  bodies  like 
you.  But  oh,  Bertha!  Aunt  Campbell  is  so  like 
mamma ;  only  mamma,  though  she  is  four  years 


108  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

younger,  looks  older  and  more  worn.  Poor  mamma ! 
it's  the  care  and  sorrow  she  has  had!" 

They  were  interrupted  by  the  opening  of  the 
door,  and  Mrs.  Lillingstone  and  her  sister  came  in. 

"This  must  be  Bertha!"  said  Lady  Campbell, 
as  soon  as  she  met  the  gaze  of  her  young  niece; 
"  she  is  exactly  like  the  description  you  gave  me  in 
the  last  letter.  And,  Kitty  dear !  she  is  very  much 
like  her  father !  " 

"We  used  to  call  her  l papa's  own  girl'  in  the 
old  times ! "  said  Mrs.  Lillingstone,  sadly.  "Alice  ! 
Where  is  the  little  truant  ?  Alice,  too,  is  a  thorough 
Lillingstone  in  looks;  and  so  is  Walter.  Katty, 
you  see,  is  like  both  parents ;  and  Helen  and 
Alfred  and  Milly  are  good  copies  of  what  you  and 
I  and  Lina  were  thirty  years  ago  !  " 

"Your  Katty  has  a  sweet  face!"  said  Lady 
Campbell,  enthusiastically.  "  I  have  not  seen  so 
fair  and  bonnie  a  maiden  since  I  saw  you  on  your 
wedding  morning,  Kitty !  " 

"Ah!"  returned  Mrs.  Lillingstone,  "  Katty  is 
far  bonnier  than  her  mother  ever  was ;  and  what 
is  more  to  the  purpose,  far  better!  My  Katty  is 
beyond  all  praise !  " 

"And  the  best  sister  who  ever  lived!"  cried 
Alfred,  just  as  Eric  entered. 

"Stop!"  exclaimed  Eric,  "I  cannot  allow  such 
broad  assertions !  Why,  you  have  not  an  idea  what 
an  excellent  sister  I  have  in  Janet ! " 


SCOTCH   COUSINS.  109 


"Ah,  well!"  returned  Alfred,  laughing,  "  it 
not  do  to  quarrel  with  you  just  yet,  so  we  will 
agree  to  settle  the  matter  like  the  comparative 
charms  of  Mary  Stuart  and  old  Queen  Bess  were 
settled  hy  that  long-headed  ambassador  :  my  sister 
is  the  best  in  England,  and  yours  is  the  best  in 
Scotland  —  when  she  is  there  !  Here  she  comes  !  " 

Bertha  looked  anxiously  towards  the  door,  and 
saw  a  girl  of  fifteen  or  sixteen  advancing  quietly 
towards  the  group  around  the  sofa.  She  had  dark 
hair  and  eyes,  and  a  very  white  skin,  clear  and 
healthy-looking,  but  perfectly  colourless. 

"  Janet,  my  dear!  this  is  your  cousin  Bertha!" 
said  Lady  Campbell  ;  and  Bertha  came  gracefully 
forward,  kissed  her  Scotch  cousin,  French  fashion, 
on  both  cheeks,  and  led  her  to  the  ottoman  where 
she  had  been  sitting  herself.  Eric  watched  her  as 
she  rose  to  welcome  his  sister  ;  there  was  something 
in  her  greeting  that  struck  him  as  being  cold  and 
artificial,  contrasted  with  the  hearty  English  salutes, 
the  warm  pressure,  and  the  demonstrative  expres- 
sions of  the  rest  of  the  family  ;  but  at  the  same  time 
he  was  fairly  dazzled  by  her  beauty. 

The  result  of  Bertha's  prolonged  labours  at  the 
toilette  was  perfectly  successful  ;  for  the  first  time 
the  sisters  had  entirely  cast  aside  their  mourning, 
and  she  had  chosen  Hue  as  the  colour  that  best 
suited  the  almost  transparent  delicacy  of  her  com- 
plexion. Unluckily,  she  and  Mildred  were  dressed 


110  THE   LILLLNGSTONES. 

alike,  according  to  a  custom  more  honoured  in  the 
breach  than  in  the  observance ;  and  the  soft  bright 
blue,  that  set  off  to  the  best  advantage  Bertha's  ex- 
quisite lilies  and  roses,  and  shining  wreaths  of  hair, 
was  by  no  means  becoming  to  Milly's  dark  skin 
and  heavy  curls.  Katty  had  perceived  the  error 
too  late  to  rectify  it;  but  she  privately  resolved 
that,  for  the  future,  Mildred  should  wear  what 
best  became  her,  and  not  what  Bertha  happened 
to  choose  on  her  own  account.  So  Eric  was  struck 
with  the  two  blue  dresses,  and  at  the  same  time 
with  the  loveliness  of  the  one  and  the  plainness  of 
the  other  sister.  Katty  and  Helen,  he  thought,  were 
sweet,  nice-looking  girls — Helen  might  even  be 
called  handsome;  but  by  the  side  of  Bertha,  their 
pretensions  to  beauty  faded  quite  out  of  sight ! 

Meanwhile  Sarah  came  in  with  the  urn ;  and  the 
travellers  were  glad  to  draw  up  to  the  large  well- 
lighted  table,  which  was  laden  with  all  the  requi- 
sites for  that  most  satisfactory  and  comfortable  of 
all  repasts  to  tired,  starved  folk — "  a  dinner-tea  ! " 
It  so  happened  that  Eric  sat  between  Bertha  and 
Mildred,  and  he  soon  found  out  that  Bertha  was  as 
conversible  as  she  was  pretty,  and  Milly  as  silent 
and  bashful  as  she  was  plain..  Naturally  enough, 
they  began  soon  to  talk  about  Scotland,  and  Eric 
waxed  enthusiastic  as  he  described  to  his  cousins 
the  beauties  of  the  lochs,  the  glories  of  the  Tros- 
sachs,  and  the  unrivalled  sDlendour  of  "  Edina, 


SCOTCH   COUSINS.  Ill 

Scotia's  darling  queen!"  and  very  soon  he  had 
started  in  the  full  spirit  of  his  well-beloved  bard, 
and  was  exclaiming — 

"  0  Caledonia,  stern  and  wild, 
Meet  nurse  for  a  poetic  child ! 
Land  of  brown  heath  and  shaggy  wood, 
Land  of  the  mountain  and  the  flood, 
Land  of  my  sires !  what  mortal  hand 
Can  e'er  untie  the  filial  band 
That  knits  me  to  thy  rugged  strand !" 

And  Bertha  listened  with  calm  interest,  and  re- 
marked that  Edinburgh  was  universally  considered 
to  be  the  fairest  city  in  Great  Britain.  A  minute 
afterwards  she  was  expatiating  on  the  cheapness  of 
drapery  goods  in  Glasgow,  and  Eric  felt  as  if  he  had 
fallen  from  fairy-land  into  a  coal-mine. 

"  I  cannot  expect  you  to  love  those  lines  as  well 
as  I  do,"  he  said  presently,  when  his  cousin  had 
concluded  her  observations  on  Paisley  manufactures, 
"  but  you  must  appreciate  them ! " 

"Oh  yes!"  returned  Bertha,  tiying  to  look 
animated,  "  they  are  extremely  pretty  !" 

How  the  adjective  jarred  on  Eric's  sensitive  ears 
and  patriotic  emotions!  He  would  have  dropped 
the  conversation  altogether  had  he  not  accidentally 
turned  towards  Mildred,  and  seen  her  face  lighted 
up  with  something  more  than  mere  forced  conven- 
tional interest. 

"You  know  the  lines?"  he  said,  addressing  her 
almost  for  the  first  time. 


112  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

"Oh.  yes!"  she  replied  hastily,  "I  know  every 
word  of  '  The  Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel.'  "  Bertha 
had  just  decided  that  the  quotation  was  one  of 
Burns' s  enthusiastic  stanzas.  "And, "  continued 
Mildred,  "  I  think  the  former  part  of  the  canto 
is  finer  still;  for  a  reason,  perhaps,  that  you  will 
scarcely  appreciate.  Only  a  Caledonian  can  apos- 
trophise '  Caledonia,  stern  and  wild ! '  but  any  one 
can  claim  as  the  emotion  of  his  own  heart — 

'Breathes  there  a  man  with  soul  so  dead, 
Who  never  to  himself  hath  said, 
This  is  my  own,  my  native  land ! ' " 

"True!  you  discriminate  justly.  But  what  a 
memory  you  must  have !  Scotchman  and  poet- 
stricken  as  I  am,  I  never  accomplished  anything 
so  marvellous  as  a  whole  poem.  I  cannot  repeat 
a  single  canto  without  mistakes.  I  only  know  the 
crack  pieces  !.  I  can  whisper  '  a  mingled  sentiment, 
'twixt  resignation  and  content.'  I  can  tell  how, 
'by  lone  St. Mary's  silent  lake,' 

t  Your  horse's  hoof -tread  sounds  too  rude, 
So  stilly  is  the  solitude.' 

I  can  echo  poor  Constance  de  Beverley's  dying  de- 
nunciations, word  for  word.  I  can  say  '  Young 
Lochinvar'  with,  any  school-boy  north  or  south  of 
the  Tweed ;  and  of  course  I  never  forget — 

'  Oh,  woman !  in  our  hours  of  ease, 
Uncertain,  coy,  and  hard  to  please!' 

Ah!  you   see  how   shallow   I   am!     But  tell  me 


SCOTCH   COUSINS.  113 

honestly  now ;  was  '  The  Lay '  a  school-room  task, 
or  a  labour  of  love  ?  " 

"Partly  both,"  returned  Mildred,  feeling  sud- 
denly at  ease  with  her  poetic  cousin.  "  Bart  of  the 
second  canto  was  given  me  for  a  punishment  lesson, 
and  I  liked  it  so  well,  that  I  learned  the  whole 
poem ;  and  I  never  forget  poetry,  or  indeed  any- 
thing I  learn  by  heart,  though  I  forget  little 
common  things  worse  than  any  one." 

"Ah!"  said  Eric,  shaking  his  head,  "the  go- 
verness who  gave  you  that  task  was  incompetent ; 
she  was  not  a  clever — nay  more,  not  a  sensible 
woman." 

1 '  You  think  she  ought  to  have  known  that  she 
was  ministering  to  my  gratification  rather  than 
inflicting  a  penance  ?  "Well !  I  told  her,  when  she 
marked  off  the  stanzas,  that  I  had  rather  learn 
poetry  than  play  or  take  a  walk,  and  I  offered  to 
learn  a  portion  of  '  Murray's  Grammar '—  the  small 
print  too.  Eut  she  did  not  like  my  interference,  so 
she  doubled  the  quantity  of  poetry  already  given; 
and  very  glad  I  was  that  she  did,  for  the  '  Murray ' 
was  horrible ;  it  was  the  notes  on  the  rules,  and 
they  would  have  been  a  punishment  indeed !  " 

Eric  was  infinitely  amused;  and,  turning  again 
to  Eertha,  he  inquired  whether  she  used  also  to 
have  poetical  impositions  ?  Her  answer  was  inter- 
rupted by  Mildred,  who  abruptly  informed  him 
that  she  had  been  the  black-sheep  of  the  school- 
I 


114  THE  LILLINGSTONES. 

room,  while  Bertha  had  very  seldom  fallen  under 
the  displeasure  of  her  governesses. 

"  You  were  never  punished  for  want  of  honesty, 
I  am  sure,"  he  replied,  warmly.  "  Ah!  some  day 
or  other,  when  we  are  better  acquainted,  I  will  in- 
dulge you  with  some  tales  of  my  school  and  college 
life.  They  will  not  be  exactly  to  my  credit  though." 

The  conversation  was  broken  by  Helen  carrying 
off  Mildred  to  help  her  with  a  large  portfolio  of 
sketches ;  and  Bertha  came  to  the  decision  that  she 
liked  Eric,  but  that  she  feared  he  was  rather  too 
frivolous,  and  given  to  talking  for  effect.  He,  on 
his  part,  thought  her  the  loveliest  girl  he  had  ever 
seen ;  but  he  did  wish  she  had  not  applied  to  his 
favourite  lines  that  tame,  hacknied  expression  — 
"pretty!" 

"  But  one  can't  have  everything,"  he  said  to 
himself,  as  he  watched  her  an  hour  later  at  the 
pianoforte  ;  ' '  and  really  her  profile  is  perfect !  and 
though  I  don't  care  about  that  style  of  music,  I 
must  admire  her  execution;  and  her  touch,  is  re- 
markably brilliant ! " 


TACTICS.  115 


CHAPTER  IX. 

TACTICS. 

"  AND  mamma  really  means  to  invite  some  people 
after  all  ?  "  said  Bertha,  when  she  and  Helen  went 
upstairs  to  dress  for  dinner  the  next  day. 

"Yes,"  replied  Helen,  languidly,  seating  herself 
on  the  bed  ;  "  will  it  not  be  a  terrible  bore  ?  " 

"  That  is  your  view  of  it,"  returned  Eertha.  "  Eor 
my  part,  I  think  it  will  be  as  delightful  as  it  is  right 
and  desirable." 

"  Yes,  I  dare  say  it  will  be  all  very  pleasant 
when  we  are  really  in  the  midst  of  it ;  but  it  will 
give  no  end  of  trouble.  I  wish  for  society  as  much 
as  any  one ;  but  to  my  mind,  the  idea  of  giving 
parties,  with  one  servant  and  a  charwoman  to  help, 
is  simply  ridiculous." 

"  Ko  doubt  it  is;  but  we  are  not  going  to  be 
reduced  to  such  straits.  Mamma  settled  this  mom- 
ing,  that  while  Aunt  Campbell  is  with  us,  we  must 
have  another  regular  servant;  and  for  the  party 
itself,  we  must  engage  Jones's  mar,  who  is  generally 
hired  out  for  waiting  at  this  time  of  the  year." 
i  2 


116  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

"  How  quickly  you  plan  every  thing !  But,  Bertha, 
it  is  very  humiliating  to  have  to  hire  make-believe 
servants.  I  almost  think  I  had  rather  go  on  living 
in  retirement.  So  long  as  there  are  no  witnesses  to 
our  privations,  they  are  not  so  unendurable ;  and 
really  there  is  nothing  which  rich  people  ridicule  so 
much  as  pretension,  and  striving  to  keep  up  appear- 
ances, in  persons  who  are  reduced  as  we  are." 

"But  they  must  not  see  that  there  is  any  striving 
about  it !  We  must  not,  of  course,  attempt  to 
imitate  the  barbaric  splendours  of  the  Goldings,  nor 
the  heavy,  lavish  state  of  the  Armstrongs.  Our 
entertainments  must  be  so  conducted  as  to  call  forth 
no  comparisons  with  those  of  our  guests.  Taste, 
and  the  usages  of  a  lifetime,  must  not  only  supply 
the  place,  but  triumph  over  the  apparent  advantages 
of  those,  who  having  amassed  wealth  try  to  copy 
the  style  and  manners  of  the  higher  classes.  "What 
is  an  effort  to  them,  used  to  be  our  daily  life.  Even 
now,  their  strained  etiquette  is  only  a  meretricious 
copy  of  our  regular  habits.  Oh !  if  mamma  would 
only  give  me  l carte  llanche?  what  would  I  not  do?" 

"  I  wish  she  would,"  replied  Helen,  becoming 
infected  with  Bertha's  animation;  "I  really  think, 
Bertha,  you  are  the  cleverest  amongst  us :  Katty  has 
no  ambition;  I  see  how  things  might  be  managed, 
but  then  I  have  no  strength.  The  mere  planning  of 
anything  extraordinary,  exhausts  my  spirits  and  my 
energies :  execution  is  altogether  beyond  me.  Then 


TACTICS.  117 

Milly  is  clever  enough ;  but  it  is  in  a  way  that  will 
never  tell,  either  for  her  own  advantage,  or  for  ours. 
Clearly  it  is  you,  Bertha,  who  must  be  the  leading 
spirit  of  your  family.  As  far  as  I  am  concerned,  I 
put  myself  in  your  hands." 

"  You  really  will  ?  "  asked  Bertha  eagerly,  turn- 
ing round  from  the  toilet-table.  "  You  will  help 
me,  you  will  be  my  ally  ?  " 

"No!  I  do  not  promise  so  much  as  that:  to  be 
any  one's  ally  is  to  render  one's  self  responsible  for 
action,  and  also  to  co-operate  generally ;  but  I  am 
quite  willing  that  you  should  plan  for  me,  and  all 
the  aid  that  it  is  in  my  power  to  give,  you  shall 
certainly  receive." 

"I  understand.  Helen,  if  I  give  you  any  idea 
of  my  schemes  for  the  restoration  of  our  family 
fortunes,  may  I  rely  upon  your  fidelity  ?  Remember 
they  are  not  to  be  imparted  to  any  one ;  for  I  must 
set  about  my  work  cautiously  and  by  degrees.  If 
mamma  and  Hatty  suspect  what  I  have  taken  in 
hand,  they  will  immediately  put  a  veto  on  the 
whole  course  of  procedure." 

"I  promise  never  to  betray  your  confidence," 
replied  Helen  earnestly.  She  was  fond  of  secrets, 
and  the  idea  of  a  harmless  conspiracy  pleased  her 
exceedingly.  "You  may  trust  me,"  she  continued, 
"I  am  too  much  interested  in  your  success  to  en- 
danger the  cause  by  carelessness  or  want  of  reserve. 
Tell  me  all  freely." 


118  THE    LILLINGSTONES. 

"  Very  well !  I  will  trust  you.  If  you  know  and 
approve  my  schemes,  you  may  be  able  to  further 
them  without  much  trouble  to  yourself.  To  begin 
at  the  beginning.  We  really  are  poor,  wretchedly 
poor ;  not  only  poor  as  contrasted  with  our  former 
and  rightful  position,  but  poor  in  comparison  with 
the  persons  with  whom  we  must  at  present  associate  ; 
and  I  do  not  see,  as  matters  stand,  how  or  when  we 
shall  get  richer." 

"]S"or  I  either,"  interposed  Helen  mournfully. 

"  Consequently  matters  must  be  altered.  It  was 
all  very  well  during  the  months  of  our  mourning  to 
maintain  the  strictest  retirement,  and  I  have  found 
the  benefit  of  the  prolonged  seclusion ;  for  I  have 
discovered  exactly  what  our  position  really  is,  what 
it  is  held  to  be  by  our  neighbours,  and  what  it  may 
or  may  not  be  in  time  to  come,  according  to  the 
course  which  henceforth  we  adopt." 

"I  do  believe  Alfred  will  be  the  possessor  of 
Lillingstone  again,  do  not  you  ?  "  asked  Helen. 

"  I  cannot  say.  I  am  quite  willing  to  believe  it. 
But  at  present  it  seems  to  me  a  very  Utopian  scheme, 
to  say  the  least  of  it.  And  supposing  he  really  does 
succeed,  it  will  not  be  yet  awhile.  If  he  continues 
steadfast  to  his  purpose,  and  if  fortune  favour  him, 
he  may  be  master  of  Lillingstone  once  more,  in 
twenty  years  to  come,  by  which  time,  Helen,  we 
shall  be  a  nice  family  of  old  maids ;  and  as  Alfred 
will  probably  marry  when  he  recovers  his  inherit- 


TACTICS.  119 

ance,  we  shall  not  occupy  a  very  enviable  situation. 
I  don't  know  how  you  may  feel,  but  the  idea  of 
being  a  maiden-aunt  is  excessively  disgusting." 

"  It  is  the  horror  of  horrors,"  said  Helen,  shutting 
her  eyes  as  if  unable  to  contemplate  so  terrible  a  fate. 

"I  quite  agree  with  you;  and  now  comes  the 
gist  of  mj  plans — we  must  all  marry  early  and  well! 
Not,  of  course,  at  present ;  that  is,  /  am  not  thinking 
of  marriage  for  myself;  but  it  is  quite  time  that 
Katty  was  married,  and  you  engaged ;  and  in  order 
to  form  proper  connections,  and  to  gather  round  us 
an  eligible  circle  of  acquaintances,  it  is  essential 
that  we  should  immediately  go  into  society." 

"I  am  afraid,"  sighed  Helen,  "that  we  have 
small  chance  of  forming  an  advantageous  circle  while 
we  remain  in  Oldminster.  There  is  Mrs.  Armstrong, 
who  is  somewhat  of  our  own  standing ;  and  there  are 
the  Harrops,  if  we  had  anything  like  a  carriage." 

"'  Anything  like  a  carriage !'  My  dear  Helen, 
let  me  tell  you  that  an  inferior  equipage  is  decidedly 
worse  than  none !  Every  one  knows  that  we  have 
been  accustomed  to  carriages  and  horses ;  and  they 
doubtless  exaggerate  our  faded  splendours ;  but  if 
they  saw  us  rumbling  about  the  country  in  a  trap 
like  Mr.  Clark's,  or  in  a  second-hand  phaeton  like 
Mrs.  Millar's,  we  should  immediately  sink  in  the 
estimation  of  the  whole  population  of  Oldminster. 
They  would  compare  our  *  turn  out '  with  their 
own  ;  and  they  would  argue  that  persons  who  were 


120  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

contented  with  so  shabby  an  affair  could  never  have 
been  really  accustomed  to  a  thoroughly  appointed 
establishment." 

"  But  does  it  matter  so  very  much  what  the 
townspeople  think  ?  "-  asked  Helen. 

"It  does  matter;  because  you  see,  unfortunately 
circumstanced  as  we  are,  they  are  the  very  persons 
upon  whom  we  must  commence  operations.  Our 
party  next  week  will  be  composed  of  the  Armstrongs, 
the  Herberts,  the  Millars,  and  the  Goldings !  " 

"  Will  not  the  clerical  element  be  too  strong? " 

"  Not  in  the  present  case.  In  an  ordinary  way 
it  would ;  but  the  clergy,  you  know,  are  always 
admissible.  Their  office  invests  them  with  a  rank 
to  which  they  may  or  may  not  be  entitled  by  birth 
and  breeding;  and  in  receiving  our  clerical  guests 
there  is  no  danger  of  notoriously  lowering  our 
standard;  indeed,  I  mean  to  beat  up  for  two  or 
three  curates ;  but  mind,  Helen,  you  do  not  fancy  one 
of  them — for  a  poor  curate,  without  patronage  and 
without  expectations,  is  the  worst  speculation  in  the 
world." 

"Bertha,"  interrupted  Helen  suddenly,  "I  wish 
you  would  not  call  marriage  '  a  speculation?  I  think 
it  is  wrong ;  and  I  am  sure  it  is  degrading  to  woman- 
hood to  view  it  in  that  light ! " 

Bertha  saw  her  mistake.  She  had  forgotten  for 
the  moment  the  dreamy  poetic  tendencies  of  Helen's 
nature.  She  did  not  remember  that  she  had  been 


TACTICS.  121 

feeding  her  imagination  with  love-stories  ever  since 
she  had  been  out  of  the  school-room ;  and  she  did 
not  know  that  underneath  the  pensiveness  and  the 
romance  of  her  sister's  character,  there  existed  a 
principle  of  right,  with  great  feminine  delicacy,  and 
a  strong,  almost  passionate,  admiration  for  that 
which  was  pure  and  true  and  self-sacrificing.  If 
Helen  could  not  make  sacrifices  herself,  she  could 
fully  appreciate  them  in  others ;  and  while  she  felt 
conscious  of  her  own  supineness,  and  knew  that  she 
had  never  in  any  one  instance  practised  the  heroism 
of  renunciation,  she  flattered  herself  that  when  the 
time  came  for  action,  or  for  suffering,  she  would 
find  herself  as  self-renouncing  and  as  devoted  as  the 
high  and  imaginary  ideal  she  had  cherished  in  her 
heart  of  hearts  from  the  days  of  childhood.  It  was 
the  opportunity,  not  the  will  or  the  power,  which 
was  wanting  to  make  her  a  veritable  heroine. 

So  Bertha  hastened  to  correct  the  error.  "My 
dear  Helen,"  she  said,  apologetically,  "you  mistake 
me.  Par  be  it  from  me  to  advocate  a  marriage  of 
mere  expediency :  of  course,  the  affections  are  the 
first  thing  to  be  considered;  but  I  think  you  will 
agree  with  me,  if  I  say  that  what  is  commonly 
called  a  love-match,  need  not  be  made  up  of  love 
alone.  You  may  love  your  husband  just  as  strongly 
and  deeply  if  he  can  afford  to  give  you  all  the 
appliances  of  rank  and  fashion.  Do  you  remember 
Lucy  Trevelyan?  " 


122  THE   L1LL1NGSTONES. 

"Not  much.  She  was  married — eloped,  I  think, 
when  I  was  a  child.  You  cannot  remember  her  at 
all,  I  should  think." 

"No,  I  have  not  any  distinct  recollection  of  her, 
but  Aunt  Campbell  was  Celling  mamma  about  her 
last  night.  Some  friend  of  hers  called  on  Lucy — 
I  forget  her  married  name — and,  oh!  she  gave 
such  a  description  of  her  menage  !  Six  children  in 
check  pinafores,  with  dirty  faces ;  two  that  could 
not  walk;  a  sickly  baby  that  cried  eternally,  one 
poor  drudge  of  a  servant,  and  such  a  house !  Aunt's, 
friend  said  that  there  did  not  seem  to  be  anything, 
from  the  attic  to  the  kitchen,  that  was  not  broken 
or  defaced ;  Lucy  herself  worn  and  faded  and  un- 
tidy, and,  worst  of  all,  lamenting  her  imprudent 
marriage,  and  telling  the  saddest  tales  of  an  unkind 
and  selfish  husband." 

"The  more  shame  for  her!"  replied  Helen  in- 
dignantly. "  There  can  be  no  excuse  for  a  woman's 
discussing  her  husband's  faults  with  any  one ;  and  it 
does  not  follow  that  every  one  who  marries  for  love 
should  share  the  fate  of  this  poor  unhappy  Lucy." 

"  Certainly  not.  Hers  is  an  extreme  case,  I 
confess.  I  believe  she  set  both  parents  at  defiance, 
and,  disregarding  the  entreaties  of  the  kindest  of 
mothers,  and  the  commands  of  the  most  indulgent 
of  fathers,  rushed  blindly  and  wilfully  to  her  own 
ruin.  She  deserved  the  misery  which  has  been  her 
portion." 


TACTICS.  123 

"  Poor  girl ! "  said  Helen  compassionately.  "  The 
after  feeling  of  disobedience  must  be  wretched. 
Even  if  she  had  been  prosperous  there  must  have 
been  bitter  compunction." 

Bertha  did  not  see  it,  but  she  did  not  say  so ;  she 
was  anxious  not  to  shock  Helen's  romance,  and  she 
proceeded  cautiously.  "Well,  dear,  I  think  we 
need  not  discuss  that  point  any  more.  I  merely 
intended  to  remark  that  it  would  be  better,  for 
some  of  us  at  least,  to  be  advantageously  settled. 
If  you,  for  instance,  married  as  a  Miss  Lillingstone 
of  Lillingstone  ought  to  marry,  think  of  what 
service  you  could  be  to  your  family.  You  would 
restore  us  to  our  old  position ;  at  least,  under  your 
roof  and  your  chaperonage,  we  should  enjoy 'oppor- 
tunities for  which  we  now  seek  in  vain.  Mamma 
would  be  so  thankful  to  have  one  daughter — alas, 
there  are  five  Miss  Lillingstones ! — comfortably  pro- 
vided for;  and  there  is  no  saying  how  much  you 
might  be  able  to  help  Alfred,  and  forward  his  views 
as  regards  Lillingstone.  You  must  perceive  the 
justice  of  what  I  say ;  romantic  and  high-flown  as 
you  are  by  nature  and  by  indulgence,,  you  must  own 
that  I  am  speaking  common  sense." 

"Yes,  but  I  misunderstood  you,  I  suppose.  I 
thought  you  were  talking  like  a  horrid  worldly  old 
woman ;  and  indeed,  Bertha,  you  do  seem  ages  older 
than  mamma." 

ft Thank  you  for  the  compliment;  I  should  feel 


124  THE  LILLDTGSTONES. 

alarmed  did  not  a  look  in  the  glass  reassure  me. 
But  to  proceed,  we  may  as  well  finish  the  subject 
while  we  are  about  it ;  you  know  that  Aunt 
Campbell  wished  two  of  us  to  return  with  her  in 
the  spring?" 

"  Yes;  and  I  must  own  I  should  like  to  be  one 
of  the  two.  I  wonder  how  it  will  be  settled :  if  it 
go  by  right  of  primogeniture  it  will  be  Katty  and 
myself ;  but  then,  how  is  Katty  to  be  spared  ?  And 
you,  too,  would  be  very  much  missed.  I  think  it 
ought  to  be  Milly  and  I ;  we  are  the  least  important 
personages  in  the  house,  you  know." 

"  I  suppose  it  will  be  as  mamma  and  aunt  decide, 
and  I  suspect  aunt  will  be  very  much  influenced  by 
the  wishes  of  Janet  and  Eric." 

"Yery  likely;  Eric  seems  to  be  consulted  on 
every  occasion,  and  he  in  his  turn  consults  Janet." 

"By  the  way,  Helen,  what  do  you  think  of  our 
cousin  Eric?" 

"  Think  of  him  ?  Why,  I  hardly  know.  I  take 
a  long  time  to  form  an  opinion.  He  is  good-looking, 
certainly ;  I  dare  say  he  may  be  called  handsome : 
and  it  must  be  a  delightful  thing  to  be  heir  to  such 
a  grand  old  castle  as  Strathallan.  He  seems  clever 
and  kind,  and  very  much  attached  to  his  sister." 

Bertha  was  satisfied :  she  had  been  rather  afraid 
that  Helen  might  be  stricken  by  her  stalwart  High- 
land cousin,  for  she  had  fully  resolved  to  captivate 
him  herself — not,  as  she  assured  herself,  that  she 


TACTICS.  125 

intended  vegetating  in  that  old  dungeon  of  a  castle 
in  Inverness-shire.  If  she  were  ever  Lady  Campbell 
she  would  have  a  house  in  town,  and  take  her 
proper  place  in  London  society.  For  Bertha  had  a 
shrewd  suspicion  that  Eric  Campbell  had  come  to 
England  with  some  idea  of  choosing  a  wife.  What 
her  own  tactics  were  to  be,  at  present  she  could  not 
tell.  She  was  only  sure  of  one  thing,  she  must 
make  herself  agreeable,  if  not  necessary  to  Janet, 
and  she  must  conciliate  her  aunt's  good  opinion. 

Presently  Helen  asked,  in  her  turn,  "And  what 
do  you  think  of  Janet  ?" 

"  She  is  such  a  mere  child,"  replied  Bertha, 
"that  it  is  hardly  fair  to  think  anything  decisive 
about  her.  She  is  pretty  certainly,  but  I  do  not 
think  she  is  clever :  she  seems  passionately  fond  of 
Eric,  and  I  should  say  he  might,  if  he  cared  to  do 
it,  mould  her  to  almost  anything  he  pleased.  She 
will  never  make  a  brilliant  woman.  I  dare  say 
she  will  many  some  good,  quiet,  Scottish  laird,  or 
some  excellent  young  minister,  and  reign  at  the 
castle  or  the  manse,  as  the  case  may  be,  universally 
respected  and  beloved." 

"Do  you  know,"  interposed  Helen,  "I  differ 
from  you :  I  think  she  is  clever !  She  is  so  quiet 
now ;  for  we  are  all  strangers  to  her,  and  besides  she 
is  very  young,  not  fifteen  till  next  March.  But  did 
you  not  notice  how  her  face  lighted  up  last  night 
when  Eric  and  Katty  were  talking  about  the  different 


126  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

schools  of  painting,  and  the  great  masters?  and 
though  she  only  spoke  once  or  twice,  and  that  when 
pointedly  addressed,  she  said  something  each  time 
that  was  quite  to  the  purpose.  I  know  I  thought  I 
could  not  have  answered  with  so  much  propriety  and 
discrimination,  though  I  am  four  years  older.  I 
think  she  has  read  a  great  deal." 

"Who  was  that  author  they  were  discussing  so 
eagerly  when  I  came  into  the  room,  just  before  bed- 
time?" 

"It  was  Buskin.  Eric  seems  enthusiastic  about 
the  l  Stones  of  Venice,'  especially  the  t  Sea  Stories.' 
He  actually  recited  a  long  piece  from  his  favourite 
volume :  it  was  about  Venice,  and  the  canals,  and 
the  salt  lagoon,  and  the  island  of  Murano;  it  was 
exquisite — equal  to  any  poetry — and  he  thought  so 
too,  and  so  did  Janet ;  for  her  eyes  were  shining,  and 
there  was  a  beautiful  colour  in  her  cheeks  all  the 
while  he  spoke.  The  description  struck  me  so  much 
that  I  mean  to  try  if  I  cannot  paint  it  from  imagi- 
nation." 

"  Is  there  a  Buskin  in  the  house  ?" 

"Yes;  Alfred  brought  the  *  Stones  of  Venice' 
from  Dr.  Armstrong's  only  two  days  ago ;  it  is  in 
his  study." 

"  I  will  fetch  it ;  you  shall  show  me  the  passage." 
!N"o  sooner  said  than  done ;  in  two  minutes  the  place 
was  found,  and  the  precise  lines  pointed  out.  Bertha 
read : — 


TACTICS.  127 

"  The  salt  breeze,  the  white  moaning  sea-birds, 
the  masses  of  black  weed,  separating  and  disappear- 
ing gradually  in  knots  of  heaving  shoal,  under  the 
advance  of  the  steady  tide — all  proclaim  it  to  be 
indeed  the  ocean,  on  whose  bosom  the  great  city  rests 
so  calmly.  Not  such  blue,  soft,  lake-like  ocean  as 
bathes  the  Neapolitan  promontories,  or  sleeps  beneath 
the  marble  rocks  of  Genoa ;  but  a  sea,  with  the  bleak 
power  of  our  own  northern  waves,  yet  subdued  into 
a  strange,  spacious  rest,  arid  changed  from  its  angry 
pallor  into  a  field  of  burnished  gold,  as  the  sun 
declined  behind  the  belfry  tower  of  the  lonely  island- 
church,  fitly  named  l  St.  George  of  the  Seaweed.'  As 
the  boat  drew  nearer  the  city,  the  coast  which  the 
traveller  had  just  left,  sank  behind  him  into  one  long, 
low,  sad- coloured  line,  tufted  irregularly  with  brush- 
wood and  willows.  But,  at  what  seemed  its  northern 
extremity,  the  hills  of  Arqua  rose  in  a  dark  cluster 
of  purple  pyramids,  balanced  on  the  bright  mirage  of 
the  lagoon :  two  or  three  smooth  surges  of  inferior 
hill  extended  themselves  about  their  roots;  and 
beyond  these,  beginning  with  the  craggy  peaks  above 
Yicenza,  the  chain  of  the  Alps  girded  the  whole 
horizon  to  the  north — a  wall  of  jagged  blue,  here 
and  there  showing  through  its  clefts  a  wilderness  of 
misty  precipices,  fading  far  back  into  the  recesses  of 
Cadore,  and  itself  rising  and  breaking  away  east- 
ward, where  the  sun  struck  upon  its  snow,  into 
mighty  fragments  of  peaked  light,  standing  up 


128  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

behind  the  barred  clouds  of  evening,  one  after 
another — countless — the  crown  of  the  Adrian  Sea, 
until  the  eye  turned  back  from  pursuing  them,  to 
rest  upon  the  nearer  burning  of  the  Campaniles  of 
Murano,  and  on  the  great  city,  where  it  magnified 
itself  along  the  waves,  as  the  quick,  silent  pacing 
of  the  Gondola  drew  nearer  and  nearer." 

Bertha  was  suddenly  interrupted  by  the  loud 
clanging  of  the  dinner  bell,  and  Helen,  as  usual,  was 
not  half  ready ;  but  for  once  she  made  good  haste, 
and  Bertha  helped  her  with  her  quick  fingers  and 
her  ready  taste.  As  they  went  down  Bertha  said — 
"I  am  going  to  put  'Ruskin'  back  again;  do  not 
say  anything  about  our  having  had  it  to-day  I " 


ON    THE    MOOB8.  129 


CHAPTER   X. 

ON    THE   MOORS. 

MKS.  LILLINGSTONE  and  her  daughters  were  sitting 
together  in  the  dining-room  several  days  after  the 
conversation  just  narrated.  Eric  was  gone  with 
Alfred  to  see  if  a  large  pool  three  miles  off  was  ready 
for  skating,  and  Lady  Campbell  and  Janet  were 
writing  letters  in  their  own  room. 

"  Do  you  not  think,  mamma,"  said  Katty,  looking 
up  from  her  work,  "that  we  had  better  settle  now 
about  this  party?  we  may  not  have  such  another 
opportunity  for  holding  a  domestic  parliament." 
Bertha  was  busy  at  her  desk,  and  she  went  on  writing 
as  sedately  as  if  the  party  were  by  no  means  a  con- 
cern of  hers.  Mrs.  Lillingstone  replied — "  Yes,  my 
dear,  if  it  is  to  be  at  all,  it  must  be  soon,  and  the 
present  seems  a  good  time  for  arranging  matters.  I 
leave  it  entirely  to  you,  my  dear  Katty;  consult 
with  your  sisters,  and  form  your  plans.  I  only 
stipulate  for  a  limited  number  of  guests.  liemeinber, 
we  are  nine  ourselves,  and  our  dining-table  is  not 
elastic ! " 


130  TEE   LILLINGSTONES. 

"Seven,  dear  mamma!"  interrupted  Bertha,  in 
her  sweetest,  softest  tones,  without,  however,  sus- 
pending her  occupation.  There  was  a  general  chorus 
of  dissent ;  and  Hilly  said,  roguishly,  "  Now,  really, 
Bertha,  you  have  made  a  mistake  for  once;  your 
talent  for  figures  has  deserted  you :  are  there  not 
three  Campbells,  and,  including  mamma,  six  Lil- 
lingstones?" 

"  Two  Campbells  and  five  Lillingstones,  it  seems  to 
mer"  returned  Bertha,  placidly.  "Milly  and  Janet 
will  be  in  the  drawing-room,  of  course ;  but  they  can 
hardly  dine  with  us  !  I  am  sure  Aunt  Campbell  will 
not  allow  it." 

Mildred  looked  rather  disconcerted,  and  Katty  and 
Mrs.  Lillingstone  were  evidently  perplexed.  Clearly, 
according  to  the  established  rules  of  society,  young 
ladies  of  fifteen  were  not  eligible  to  a  place  at  the 
dinner-table  on  state  occasions ;  but  no  one  had 
thought  of  it  except  Bertha. 

"I  am  afraid  Bertha  is  right,  my  dear  Milly," 
said  Mrs.  Lillingstone  at  length.  We  have  lived  so 
long  out  of  the  world  that  I  had  quite  forgotten 
established  usages ;  and  then  Milly,  you  see,  is  tall 
and  womanly-looking,  and  one  is  apt  to  forget  that 
she  is  really  a  child.  Of  course,  your  aunt  must 
herself  decide  about  Janet,  and  I  think  that  it  had 
better  be  settled  that  if  Janet  appears,  Mildred  should 
do  the  same." 

"  Oh,  mamma,  I  do  not  care  about  it !  "  said  Milly, 


ON   THE   MOORS.  131 

as  her  mother  turned  rather  anxiously  towards  her. 
"  I  am  afraid  I  have  got  into  the  habit  of  thinking 
myself  really  grown  up,  and  it  will  be  quite  as  well 
that  I  should  learn  my  proper  position." 

"Ah!  my  child,  that  you  cannot  have.  Your 
proper  place  is  indeed  in  the  school-room ;  but  a 
school-room  without  a  governess  is  almost  ridiculous. 
However,  I  will  not  repine ;  we  have  been  less  un- 
happy since  we  came  to  Oldminster  than  I  imagined 
possible.  For  myself,  I  care  very  little,  but  I  do 
grieve  to  see  my  girls  shut  out  from  the  advantages 
to  which  their  birth  and  actual  station  entitle  them. 
I  try  not  to  be  fretful,  but  there  are  times  when  I 
look  at  my  children,  at  my  five  daughters  especially, 
and  wish  I  knew  what  would  become  of  them  in 
future  days!" 

"My  dear  mamma,"  said  Katty  brightly,  "what 
should  become  of  us  ?  Some  of  us,  perhaps,  will  be 
married ;  and  some  of  us — myself  among  the  number, 
very  likely — will  be  staid  but  happy  old  maids; 
that  is,  if  it  please  God  to  spare  our  lives.  Any 
way,  mamma,  we  shall  be  cared  for;  and  that 
which  is  best  for  us  will  happen  to  us :  do  not  have 
any  anxieties!" 

Mrs.  Lillingstone  kissed  the  fair  brow  that  looked 
so  sweet  and  calm,  and  she  said,  "I  believe,  my 
Katty,  God  will  be  good  to  you ;  you  are  my  dutiful 
child,  and  He  will  bless  you !" 

At  the  mention  of  her  mother's  anxieties  Bertha 


132  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

"had  looked  significantly  at  Helen,  but  when  the 
conversation  seemed  to  take  what  she  called  "a 
sentimental  turn,"  she  became  uneasy,  and  desirous 
of  turning  the  general  feeling  into  another  current. 

1 1  Had  I  not  better  make  a  list  of  those  you  wish 
to  invite  ?"  she  asked  of  her  mother,  whose  thoughts 
were  evidently  far  removed  from  the  dinner-party. 

"  Yes ;  as  your  pen  is  in  your  hand  you  can  do  it 
at  once,  if  you  like.  Put  down  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Herbert  and  the  Armstrongs,  to  begin  with;  and 
there  are  the  Millars,  of  course ;  and  how  many  of 
the  Goldings,  my  dears?" 

"  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Golding,  to  begin  with,  and 
Flora.  I  do  not  see  how  we  can  ask  Laura,  too, 
for  we  must  have  Mr.  Granville  Golding,  and  Alfred 
will  be  vexed  if  Philip  is  not  invited.  And  then, 
mamma,  Mora  will  expect  Mr.  Gaunt  to  be  asked — 
no  one  thinks  of  inviting  one  without  the  other: 
that  will  do  for  the  Goldings.  And  I  have  been 
thinking  of  Mr.  Earnshaw  and  Mr.  Leigh;  and, 
oh !  mamma,  we  must  not  forget  the  Han-ops !" 

"My  dear  Bertha!"  remarked  Mrs.  Lillingstone, 
"  it  will  never  do  to  have  so  many  people ! " 

"So  many,  mamma?  I  thought  you  would  not 
think  I  had  mentioned  names  enough." 

"Why,  my  dear,  you  have  enumerated  eighteen 
persons,  without  counting  in  Philip  Golding;  and 
our  own  family,  even  if  we  exclude  Janet  an:l 
Milly,  will  be  seven  more — twenty-five  in  all !" 


ON  THE   MOORS.  133 

"But  there  is  room  for  thirty-five  people  in  this 
room,  and  with  a  little  contrivance  the  table  might 
be  made  to  accommodate  as  many  as  we  wish.  I 
am  sure  Mrs.  Armstrong's  dining-room  is  smaller 
than  ours,  and  I  know  she  frequently  asks  upwards 
of  thirty!" 

"My  dear,  it  is  not  only  the  room,  but  the 
trouble  and  the  expense !  Really,  I  know  nothing 
about  cost,  for  even  before  we  left  Lillingstone  we 
had  left  off  entertaining  company  for  some  time. 
Your  dear  papa  did  not  care  about  society,  but  he 
always  said  when  you  girls  grew  up  there  must  of 
course  be  an  alteration ;  and  in  my  earlier  days  I 
had  so  efficient  a  housekeeper  that  I  left  everything 
in  her  hands." 

"But,  mamma,"  pleaded  Bertha,  "I  do  really 
think  that  to  entertain  twenty  or  five-and-twenty 
people  will  cost  very  little  more  than  receiving  half 
the  number.  At  any  rate,  it  will  be  one  trouble, 
instead  of  two  or  more ;  and  it  is  best  to  do  the 
thing  handsomely,  especially  as  it  is  our  first 
party." 

"  I  am  sure,  my  dear,  I  cannot  tell  what  to  say. 
Katty,  what  is  your  opinion?" 

"  I  think,  mamma,  we  had  better  be  content  with 
a  small  party :  if  we  make  any  attempt  at  doing 
things  in  the  old  style  we  shall  certainly  incon- 
venience ourselves  very  much,  annoy  our  aunt  and 
cousins,  and  expose  ourselves  to  quizzical  remarks 


134  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

from  the  townspeople.  Even  the  Harrops,  if  we 
conclude  to  invite  them,  and  if  they  accept — two 
very  important  <ifs'  by  the  way — will  pity  us  if 
we  make  an  effort  beyond  our  strength." 

Bertha  looked  quite  distressed.  "Oh!  indeed, 
mamma,  the  Harrops  must  be  invited ;  let  us  have 
some  one  of  our  own  condition!" 

"Bertha,  my  child,  you  think  too  much  of  con- 
dition and  appearances!  Beally,  and  in  ourselves, 
we  are  just  the  same  as  we  were  ten  years  ago ;  for 
station  is  never  truly  lost,  except  by  misconduct; 
but  outwardly,  and  as  far  as  regards  meretricious 
distinctions,  there  is  a  very  great  difference ;  and 
by  seeking  to  hold  the  same  external  position  as 
heretofore  we  shall  only  injure  ourselves  and  amuse 
others.  Let  us  be  consistent.  To  my  mind,  there 
is  no  better  evidence  of  good  breeding  than  perfect 
consistency."  * 

"Very  well,  mamma,"  returned  Bertha  submis- 
sively ;  ^  but  will  you  tell  me  whom  I  am  to  invite 
in  your  name  ?  I  am  ready  to  make  out  the  list, 
if  you  will  decide." 

Helen  was  surprised  for  the  moment  to  see  Bertha 
yield  so  readily  ;  but  a  moment's  contemplation  of 
the  lovely  face  bending  over  the  writing-desk  con- 
vinced her  that  the  question  was  by  no  means 
settled.  Bertha  had  found  out  that  in  the  multitude 
of  words  there  is  folly  as  well  as  sin,  especially  if 
you  are  about  to  carry  out  your  own  determination 


ON  THE   MOORS.  135 

against  "the  powers  that  be."  So  she  laid  her 
paper  before  her,  mended  her  pen — she  never  used 
anything  but  quills — and  waited  meekly  for  the 
names  her  mother  chose  to  give. 

And  so  the  matter  seemed  ended ;  but  Bertha  told 
Helen  that  the  list  she  herself  bad  projected  would 
be  the  one  finally  adopted.  But  the  invitations 
were  not  fated  to  be  sent  out  so  soon  as  proposed. 
A  little  before  dark  Eric  and  Alfred  returned  with 
the  news  that  Hasleslack  Pool  would  bear  a  railway 
train ;  and  they  were  urgent  with  the  ladies  to 
spend  part  of  the  next  day  on  the  ice.  Janet  and 
Milly  bounded  at  the  idea,  Katfy  came  into  the 
plan  with  perfect  alacrity,  Walter  ran  away  to  have 
a  private  huzza  in  the  cloisters,  and  Alice  cried 
because  she  was  considered  too  young  to  join  the 
expedition.  Bertha  was  at  first  inclined  to  take 
neither  part  nor  lot  in  the  matter ;  but  when  she  saw 
how  everybody  else,  Helen  excepted,  was  rejoicing 
in  the  anticipation  of  the  morrow's  excursion,  she 
wavered  a  little .  in  her  decision ;  and  when  Eric 
came  and  sat  down  by  her,  and  said  he  would  never 
forgive  her  if  she  remained  at  home,  she  yielded 
most  amiably,  and  promised  to  be  ready  at  noon 
next  day. 

Then  ensued  a  long  discussion  on  skating  and 
"curling;"  and  Eric  told  wonderful  tales  of  the 
skill  and  prowess  of  his  countrymen  on  their  lochs 
and  mountain  tarns ;  and  from  describing  the  curl- 


136  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

ing  matches  of  Inverness-shire  and  Argyllshire,  he 
fell  to  dilating  on  the  glories  of  Caledonian  sceneiy, 
and  being  naturally  eloquent  and  of  a  poetic  tem- 
perament as  well  as  enthusiastic,  he  gave  such 
glowing  and  striking  accounts  of  the  heauties  of  his 
own  beloved  Scotia,  that  the  girls  gathered  round 
him  in  irrepressible  delight,  and  even  Bertha  felt 
her  pulses  stirred,  as  he  painted  in  vivid  colours 
the  loveliness  and  grandeur  that  lies  around  Loch 
Katrine.  "  And  you  know,"  he  said  in  conclusion, 
turning  to  Eertha,  "Loch  Katrine  has  charms  that 
all  other  lochs  cannot  boast.  "Were  its  shores  less 
lovely  and  its  waters  less  fair,  its  fame  would  be  im- 
mortal, since  Scott  himself  has  sketched  its  features 
with  his  magic  pen !  Eut  do  you  prefer  the  '  Lady 
of  the  Lake '  or  the  '  Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel  ? ' " 

"  Indeed,  I  cannot  say,"  returned  Eertha,  wishing 
her  cousin  would  not  talk  about  books  she  had 
never  cared  to  read ;  "to  tell  the  truth,  I  never 
read  novels! " 

Eric  was  rather  embarrassed.  He  did  not  like  to 
correct  his  fair  cousin;  but  he  thought  it  a  great 
pity  to  leave  her  under  the  delusion  that  Scott's 
"  Lady  of  the  Lake  "  was  a  novel ! 

Helen  was  less  scrupulous.  She  looked  up  in 
astonishment  from  her  crochet,  and  exclaimed, 
"  Why,  Eertha !  the  <  Lady  of  the  Lake  '  is  a  poem ! 
I  thought  every  educated  creature  in  Christendom 
had  read  it  at  least  once  !  " 


ON   THE   MOOR3.  137 

Bertha  could  have  bitten  her  lips  with  vexation, 
and  she  could  have  beaten  Helen  for  her  stupid 
speech.  She  wondered  how  it  was  that  Helen,  with 
all  her  indolence,  and  even  Mildred,  whose  English 
was  not  always  lucid,  or  capable  of  being  construed, 
should  yet  make  a  better  figure  than  herself  in 
conversation.  Eric  evidently  was  struck  by  her 
beauty,  and  he  wished  and  tried  to  hold  her  in 
conversation ;  but  in  some  way  or  other  he  always 
found  himself  foiled,  and  brought  to  a  stand-still  by 
some  mal-apropos  remark;  and  as  a  rule  he  gene- 
rally turned  to  Milly  or  to  Helen  when  he  had 
signally  failed  with  Bertha.  In  the  present  instance 
he  asked  Helen  if  she  had  seen  any  views  of  Loch 
Katrine,  and  she  replied  that  the  only  sketch  she 
had  ever  beheld  was  in  Sir  "Walter's  pen  and  ink ; 
while  Mildred,  lighting  up  at  the  recollection,  burst 
out  with : — 

u  And  thus  an  airy  point  he  won, 

Where,  gleaming  with  the  setting  sun, 

One  burnished  sheet  of  living  gold, 

Loch  Katrine  lay  beneath  him  roll'd, 

In  all  her  length,  far  winding  lay, 

With  promontory,  creek,  and  bay, 

And  islands  that,  empurpled  bright, 

Floated  amid  the  lovelier  light, 

And  mountains  that  like  giants  stand, 

To  sentinel  enchanted  land. 

High  on  the  south,  huge  Benevue 

Down  on  the  lake  in  masses  threw 

Craigs,  knolls,  and  mounds,  confusedly  hurlYl, 

The  fragments  of  an  earlier  world ; 


138  THE   LILLINGSTONES, 

A  wildering  forest  f eather'd  o'er 
His  ruined  sides  and  summit  hoar ; 
While  on  the  north,  through  middle  air, 
Ben-aw  heaved  high  his  forehead  bare ! " 

"  Given  with  all  the  spirit  and  appreciation  of  a 
Scotchwoman ! "  said  Eric,  when  Mildred,  rather 
ashamed  of  her  impulsive  recitation,  came  to  a 
sudden  close. 

"  The  highest  compliment  Eric  could  pay  you !  " 
whispered  Janet,  who  had  drawn  a  stool  for  herself 
into  the  middle  of  the  circle  composed  of  Helen, 
Bertha,  Mildred,  and  her  brother ;  and  she  continued, 
half  eagerly  and  half  shyly,  "You  must  see  our 
beautiful  country,  Mildred.  Eric  and  I  must  take 
you  to  all  our  haunts.  Should  you  not  like  it  ?  " 

"Should  I  net!"  replied  Mildred  heartily ;  "I 
hope  I  shall  some  day.  I  thought  poor  old  Lilling- 
stonc  the  bonniest  place  in  Great  Britain ;  but  the 
country  here  is  finer,  and  your  drawing  of  Strath- 
allan  Castle — oh,  Janet,  can  the  reality  be  as  grand?  " 

"Par  grander !  "  replied  Janet ;  "  is  it  not,  Eric  ? 
If  you  were  to  see  our  glens,  you  would  go  wild  at 
once,  Milly ! " 

"  Then  I  had  better  stay  at  home,"  returned 
Milly  archly,  "  I  am  a  giddy,  careless  thing  now ;  I 
am  afraid  mamma  and  Katty  would  not  countenance 
any  plan  that  might  lead  to  an  access  of  wildness." 

Bertha  listened  with  profound  uneasiness.  Janet 
was  evidently  taking  to  Milly,  and  Eric  seemed 


ON   THE   MOOES.  139 

half  inclined  to  transfer  the  allegiance  which  at 
the  outset  of  their  acquaintance  he  had  undoubtedly 
paid  to  her  grace  and  beauty.  She  could  only  con- 
sole herself  with  the  reflection  that  no  one  could 
shine  in  every  possible  point  of  view ;  and  by  re- 
membering how  great  was  her  superiority  in  personal 
attractions,  accomplishments,  womanly  tact,  and, 
force  of  character.  Her  hour  of  triumph  was  yet 
to  come !  The  advantages  she  wished  to  secure, 
though  of  infinite  importance  to  herself,  would  yet 
be  thrown  away  upon  Milly,  who  had  not  an  atom 
of  caution  or  of  worldly  wisdom  in  her  whole  com- 
position. 

The  next  morning  rose  clearer  and  colder  than 
ever.  Eertha  had  to  break  the  ice  before  she  could 
enjoy  her  matutinal  bath ;  and  the  demand  for  hot 
water  before  breakfast  excited  Sarah's  irascibility 
to  an  alarming  degree.  It  was  arranged  that  a 
substantial  lunch  should  take  the  place  of  dinner, 
and  that  tea  should  be  awaiting  the  party  on  their 
return;  Alfred  bargaining  that  there  should  be 
something  besides  tea  and  toast  and  cakes  on  the 
table  when  they  came  in,  hungry  as  hawks  and 
cold  as  icicles!  Sarah's  soup,  which  formed  the 
entree  at  luncheon,  was  universally  patronised,  and 
when  the  remnants  of  yesterday's  noble  surloin  had 
been  consumed,  and  when  Mrs.  Lillingstone  had 
administered  to  everybody  her  sovereign  panacea,  a 
glass  of  hot  wine  and  water,  the  skating  party  pro- 


140  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

fessed  themselves  ready  to  set  forth  on  their  travels. 
The  walk  there  was  most  inspiriting.  They  crossed 
the  river,  traversed  the  woods,  where  the  dry  frozen 
snow  came  pattering  down  on  their  heads  like  pearly 
feathers,  and  finally,  about  two  o'clock,  reached  the 
edge  of  the  moor,  in  the  midst  of  which  lay  Hasle- 
slack  Pool,  or  tarn.  All  around  the  moor,  on  that 
side  sloping  down  towards  Oldminster,  ran  a  bab- 
bling brook,  shallow  enough  in  some  places,  but 
here  and  there  of  sufficient  depth  to  drown  a  man. 
It  came  down  from  the  hills,  which  rose  up  grandly 
and  abruptly  from  the  moorlands  of  Hasleslack  and 
Burton ;  and  generally  it  dashed  and  leaped  over  its 
miniature  falls,  and  rushed  along  its  stony  bed,  with 
a  noise  that  might  be  heard  in  the  stillness  of  the 
night  even  to  Oldminster.  But  now  a  spell  lay  on 
the  restless  waters,  and  an  icy  chain  bound  them  on 
their  surging  course ;  only  a  black  line,  no  wider 
in  places  than  a  thread,  ran  tortuously  down  the 
stream  ;  for  the  strength  and  impetus  of  the  current 
prevented  the  perfect  and  adamantine  freezing  of  the 
level  river  and  the  smoother .  waters  of  the  tarn. 
This  stream  went  by  the  name  of  "  Keir,"  and  it 
was  crossed  by  a  plank-bridge,  which  had  been 
renewed  more  than  once  since  the  Lillingstones  had 
lived  at  Oldminster;  for  after  violent  rains,  or  a 
sudden  thaw,  the  waters  came  down  from  the 
heights,  and  swelling  the  channel  of  the  beck  into 
a  mighty  river,  carried  away  all  before  them. 


ON  THE   MOORS.  141 

All  was  still  now,  however ;  only  a  faint  gurgling 
could  be  heard  as  the  merry  party  crossed  the  bridge, 
and  looked  down  upon  the  snowy  banks,  the  mar- 
gins of  ice,  and  the  tiny  streamlet  of  unfrozen  water, 
wearily  forcing  its  way  to  the  tributary  below, 
where  it  joined  the  great  river  of  the  dale.  A 
moment  more,  and  they  were  on  the  wide,  trackless 
moorland. 

Alfred  and  Mildred  knew  the  vicinity  better  than 
their  companions,  for  they  had  been  there  several 
times  during  the  preceding  summer,  the  others 
only  once;  and,  as  Milly  remarked,  the  wintry 
aspect  of  the  landscape  so  altered  its  character,  that 
she  failed  to  recognise  any  familiar  feature  save  the 
hills,  and  they  looked  altogether  changed,  as  they 
rose  up  white  and  sparkling,  peaks  of  dazzling 
purity,  into  the  clear,  deep  blue  sky.  Alfred  and 
Eric  made  straight  for  the  tarn;  but  the  distance 
was  greater  than  the  gentlemen  had  believed,  or 
else  the  ladies  found  it  no  easy  matter  to  keep  the 
wild  path,  which  the  feet  of  skaters  and  the  drift- 
ing snow  had  left  them.  It  was  almost  three  o'clock 
when  they  reached  Hasleslack  Pool.  But  once 
there,  they  forgot  all  fatigues.  Eric  did  wonders, 
exciting  Walter's  admiration  and  secret  envy,  and 
making  his  fair  cousins  own  that  they  had  had  no 
adequate  idea  of  the  science  of  skating  hitherto. 
One  by  one  the  girls  ventured  on  the  ice,  at  first 
keeping  close  to  land,  but  gathering  boldness  as  the 


142  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

time  went  on,  till  at  length  they  slid  almost  as 
fearlessly  as  Eric  and  Alfred  skated  ;  and  daring 
each  other  to  wonderful  feats,  and  laughing  and 
glowing  with  the  warmth  of  exercise,  their  joyous 
voices  rang  far  over  the  snowy  heath,  and  woke  the 
echoes  of  the  lonely  hills.  Last  of  all,  Bertha 
wished  to  learn  to  skate,  and  Eric  persuaded  Walter 
to  lend  her  his  skates,  and  he  buckled  them  on  her 
little  feet,  and  he  gave  her  his  hand,  and  the  two 
flew  gallantly  from  shore  to  shore,  till  Bertha, 
breathless  and  warm,  cried  out  that  she  could  go  no 
farther.  And  then  Katty  said  it  was  time  to  go 
home. 


SPSCLETON   BELLS.  143 


CHAPTER  XI. 

SPECLETOK     BELLS. 

YES  !  indeed  it  was  time  to  go  home,  for  the  light 
was  rapidly  fading,  and  through  the  still  air  came 
the  far-off  sounds  of  the  Oldminster  bells,  which 
Alfred  knew  were  not  to  be  rung  till  late  in  the 
afternoon.  It  was  some  time  before  the  entire  party 
was  collected,  and  Katty  began  to  be  anxious,  for 
she  knew  her  mother  would  be  alarmed  if  they  did 
not  return  soon  after  dark ;  but  just  as  they  had  left 
the  tarn,  and  taken  the  first  steps  homewards,  there 
was  a  simultaneous  exclamation,  and  a  halt  from 
every  individual  except  Bertha. 

And  no  wonder!  for  there,  outstretched  before 
their  wondering  eyes,  was  a  scene  of  almost  celestial 
beauty.  The  sun  had  sunk  behind  the  horizon,  and 
the  western  hills  were  black  and  jagged  against  a 
fiery,  golden  sky ;  but  the  fells  at  whose  base  they 
stood  were  an  eastern  range,  and  they  caught  on 
their  snowy  summits  the  glow  and  the  colouring  of 
the  opposite  heavens.  Many  fleecy  clouds  too  had 


144  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

rolled  up  since  noon,  and  now  it  was  difficult  to  tell 
which  was  fell  and  which,  was  cloud,  for  both  were 
blended  in  the  brightness  and  glory  of  the  sunset 
hues.  Here  and  there  a  white  peak  pierced  the 
roseate  mist,  the  ravines  were  filled  with  golden 
light,  and  strange  and  fantastic  were  the  shapes 
assumed  by  the  tempest-scarred  cliffs,  as  they  loomed 
up  weirdly  through  the  auriferous  haze.  It  made 
Milly  think  of  "Wordsworth's  vision  in  "The  "Wan- 
derer ; "  and  Janet  thought  with  awe  of  the 
mountain  of  Transfiguration.  Both  were  silent; 
and  Eric  longed  to  stand  bare-headed  and  alone 
before  that  glorious  temple  of  "the  everlasting 
hills ; "  those  vast  and  stainless  altars,  sending  up 
evermore  the  incense  of  praise,  and  singing  through 
the  winter  snows  and  the  summer  sunshine — "  O 
Lord,  how  manifold  are  Thy  works,  in  wisdom  hast 
Thou  made  them  all ! " 

Long  they  lingered,  till  Katty,  afraid  of  the  chilly 
air  and  the  gathering  twilight,  urged  them  to 
quicken  their  steps;  and  even  as  they  turned 
reluctantly  towards  the  dreary  moorland  the  glo- 
rious vision  faded :  cold  and  white  grew  the  golden 
clouds,  the  roseate  mist  paled  and  died  into  leaden 
grey,  and  the  hills  looked  dark  and  awful  amid  the 
deepening  shadows.  The  aspect  of  the  sky  was 
changed  too,  and  was  still  changing  from  brilliancy 
to  dulness,  and  from  dulness  to  sullen  gloom.  If 
the  young  people  did  not  wish  to  encounter  a  snow- 


fSPEOLETON  BELLS.  145 

storm,  it  was  evident  that  there  must  be  no  further 
delay.  Eric  and  Katty  waited  for  Hilly,  who  was 
with  difficulty  roused  to  a  sense  of  the  necessity  of 
going  home  immediately.  Alfred  and  Janet  were 
already  far  over  the  heath,  and  Walter  ran  and 
leaped  without  the  incubus  of  a  companion.  Ere 
they  reached  Keir  the  snow  was  falling,  at  first  in 
large  flakes,  few  and  far  between,  but  soon  heavily 
and  unceasingly.  They  were  glad  to  be  out  of  the 
lanes,  where  the  path  was  uncertain,  and  safe  in 
the  high-road,  where  there  were  neither  hollows  nor 
pitfalls  for  unwary  feet.  They  made  the  best  of 
their  way,  however,  bravely  pushing  on  through  the 
thick  falling  flakes,  and  laughing  at  the  general 
powdering  of  each  other's  cloaks  and  coats.  They 
had  almost  entered  the  town,  and  already  tne  lamps 
on  the  bridge  gleamed  dimly  through  the  storm, 
when  Walter  ran  back  from  Alfred  and  Janet,  who 
were  rushing  on  through  the  blinding  snow,  and 
cried  out,  ""Why,  Katty!  where  is  Bertha?" 

"  Is  she  not  in  front?  "  asked  Katty,  stopping  in 
her  dismay  ;  "  I  thought  Bertha  and  Janet  went  on 
together !  " 

* '  No,  they  thought  she  was  with  you ;  but  Katty, 
Eric,  where  is  she  ?  " 

Where  indeed?  They  looked  back  along  the 
white  deserted  road,  but  they  could  not  see  farther 
than  a  few  yards.  The  night  had  closed  in  heavy 
and  dark,  and  but  for  the  snow  on  the  ground, 

L 


146  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

which,  shed  a  faint  glimmer,  it  would  have  been 
difficult  to  keep  the  footpath. 

"  I  dare  say  she  went  on  first  before  any  of  us," 
said  Walter  at  length;  "I  remember  now  she  did 
not  stop  with  the  rest  of  us  to  look  at  the  fells ;  I 
saw  her  a  little  way  on,  just  as  Eric  began  to  talk 
about  Schehallion." 

Katty  eagerly  seized  the  hope;  and  Eric  replied, 
"I  hope  so,  Walter.  But  let  us  make  haste  home ; 
we  must  see  the  ladies  under  shelter  as  quickly  as 
possible ;  and  then,  if  Bertha — but  no  I  it  is  absurd 
to  think  of  such  a  thing ! — but  if  she  really  is  not  at 
home,  Alfred  and  I  must  go  back  to  the  heath." 

So  they  quickened  their  pace  almost  to  a  run,  and 
reached  home  just  as  the  party  in  advance  had  made 
good  their  entrance.  Mrs.  Lillingstone  and  Lady 
Campbell  poured  forth  their  relief  and  their  wel- 
comes, and  there  was  an  instant  and  imperative 
injunction  to  go  upstairs  immediately,  and  change 
all  that  was  damp  without  a  moment's  delay.  But 
Kate  and  Mildred  did  not  stir ;  they  looked  in  vain 
for  Bertha,  and  they  listened  eagerly  for  some  word 
which  might  testify  to  her  prior  return.  At  length 
Katty  asked  quite  hoarsely,  "  Where  is  Bertha? " 

"My  child!  what  do  you  mean?"  cried  Mrs. 
Lillingstone,  rising  from  her  rocking-chair  by  the 
fire.  "  Is  she  not  with  you  ?  Did  she  not  go  with 
you  to  Hasleslack  Tarn  ?  " 

"Yes,  she  went  with  us,"  replied  Eric;  and  he 


SPECLETON   BELLS,  147 

explained  how  lie  and  Katty  had  imagined  her  to  be 
with  the  first  detachment,  and  how  they,  Alfred 
and  Janet,  had  supposed  she  was  coming  on  with 
the  others,  till  Walter  made  the  discovery  that  she 
was  not  with  either  party. 

One  faint  hope  remained :  might  she  not,  being 
wet,  and  perhaps  dirty,  have  come  in  by  the  back 
entrance,  and  gone  straight  to  her  own  room? 
Mildred  flew  to  look,  and  to  question  Sarah;  but 
Bertha's  room  was  dark  and  untenanted,  and  Sarah 
declared  the  key  of  the  back-gate  lay  on  the 
kitchen  dresser,  and  no  one  but  the  milkman  had 
rung  the  bell  since  three  o'clock.  The  utmost 
consternation  prevailed.  Mrs.  Lillingstone  paced 
the  room  in  uncontrollable  agony,  and  would  fain 
have  gone  forth  with  her  son  and  nephew  to  seek 
her  lost  child. 

As  soon  as  it  was  ascertained  that  Bertha  was  not 
in  the  house,  Alfred  and  Eric  prepared  to  go  back 
to  the  scene  of  their  afternoon's  enjoyment.  They 
took  with  them  long  and  stout  walking-sticks  and 
lanterns;  and  when  they  came  to  the  bottom  of 
the  street,  they  met  young  Brunskill,  the  clerk's 
son,  issuing  from  the  cloisters,  and  he,  hearing  what 
their  expedition  was,  volunteered  his  services,  as  he 
knew  the  moors  far  better  than  Alfred.  And  so  the 
three  young  men  crossed  the  bridge  in  the  wild, 
dark  night,  for  the  wind  had  risen,  and  every  now 
and  then  they  were  almost  blinded  by  the  thick, 


148  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

driving  snow  that  drifted  onwards,  increasing  theii 
alarm  and  their  anxieties  for  the  missing  Bertha  a 
hundred-fold. 

It  is  now  time  to  return  to  Bertha  Lillingstone, 
and  relate  her  adventures  on  Hasleslack  Moor.  As  I 
said,  she  did  not  linger  with  the  rest  to  admire  the 
glory  that  the  sunset  cast  on  the  hills ;  she  was 
tired,  and  rather  inclined  to  be  cross,  because  she 
had  torn  the  skirt  of  her  blue  merino  dress.  She 
gave  one  glance,  and  saw  all  that  the  others  were  so 
rapt  in  beholding ;  and  then,  wondering  at  Katty's 
imprudence  in  loitering  in  the  keen  icy  air,  after 
the  exercise  they  had  undergone,  concluded  to  walk 
quietly  on  in  advance  of  the  party.  She  proceeded 
a  little  way,  and  then,  without  perceiving  her  error, 
diverged  from  the  main  track  by  which  they  had 
crossed  the  moor  to  the  tarn,  and  as  the  universal 
whiteness  obliterated  all  landmarks,  she  walked  a 
long  way  before  she  even  suspected  that  she  had 
strayed  from  the  one  path  which  led  directly  to  the 
bridge  over  Keir. 

When  the  idea  first  presented  itself,  she  paused  to 
reconnoitre,  and  she  was  immediately  reassured  by 
the  sound  of  the  merry  voices,  seemingly  close  at 
hand.  She  could  not  see  any  one,  it  is  true,  but  the 
inequalities  of  the  ground  were  great,  and  Bertha 
had,  unfortunately,  made  her  way  into  a  part  of  the 
moor  where  the  hollows  were  deeper  and  the  hillocks 
higher  than  elsewhere.  Very  tranquilly,  however, 


SPECLETON   BELLS.  149 

she  pursued  her  way,  at  the  same  time  censuring 
Kate  severely  for  not  hurrying  on  from  the  moment 
they  left  the  ice,  especially  as  she  soon  hegan  to 
discern  the  tokens  of  the  approaching  storm. 

By-and-by  she  stopped  again  in  serious  per- 
plexity. She  came  to  a  point  where  there  were 
evidently  two  paths :  one,  the  main  one,  by  which 
she  had  come  so  far,  turning  up  abruptly  towards 
the  hills,  quite  away  from  the  direction  in  which 
the  bridge  of  Keir  lay;  the  other,  which  seemed 
scarcely  worthy  of  the  name  of  a  path,  wandering 
away  into  the  wildest  part  of  the  moor,  where  it 
joined  a  morass  called  Specleton  Bog.  Bertha  was 
convinced  that  she  had  left  the  track  which  they  had 
all  traversed  together,  and  she  anxiously  listened 
again  for  the  cheering  voices.  Once  she  thought 
she  heard  them,  but  now  they  sounded  remote,  and 
far  in  advance  of  the  spot  where  she  stood.  She 
ran  hastily  up  the  nearest  eminence,  and  looked 
anxiously  round,  as  far  as  she  could  see,  and  that 
was  not  very  far,  for  the  darkness  was  rapidly 
deepening,  and  a  few  wandering  flakes  were  already 
floating  in  the  thick,  raw  air.  Her  alarm  was 
extreme,  for  now  she  could  not  disguise  from 
herself  the  startling  truth :  she  was  alone  at  night- 
fall on  Hasleslack  Moor,  of  the  paths  of  which  she 
was  entirely  ignorant !  Erom  the  only  track  which 
might  have  led  her  in  safety  to  the  bridge,  she  had 
wandered  she  knew  not  how  far,  and  the  snow, 


150  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

wh.ich.  was  already  falling  around  her,  would  soon 
add  to  her  difficulties,  and  certainly  to  her  dangers. 
Added  to  all  these  sources  of  uneasiness,  she  was 
becoming  miserably  cold;  her  feet  and  her  hands 
were  nearly  benumbed,  and  her  whole  body  ached 
as  the  keen  wind  came  sweeping  down  from  the 
hills  over  the  unsheltered  moorland. 

Straining  her  eyes  through  the  darkness,  she  strove 
to  retrace  her  steps  to  the  tarn,  in  the  faint  hope 
that  she  might  be  able  to  regain  the  regular  bridle- 
path which  led  to  the  bridge.  She  thought  if  she 
could  only  stand  by  the  rushes,  where  she  had  stood 
while  Eric  had  fastened  her  skates — oh !  how  long 
ago  it  seemed ! — she  could  tell  which  direction  she 
must  keep,  even  if  all  trace  of  the  path  were  covered 
by  the  now  thickly  falling  snow. 

But  alas !  the  gathering  gloom  and  the  blinding 
flakes  made  her  progress  necessarily  slow  and  uncer- 
tain. Every  few  yards  she  halted,  to  assure  herself 
that  she  was  not  wandering  still  farther  into  the 
intricacies  of  the  moor,  and  every  time  she  surveyed 
her  position  she  felt  more  bewildered,  and  more 
hopeless  of  regaining  the  tarn  side. 

For  nearly  an  hour  she  plodded  on  over  the 
sunken  snow,  which  now  began  to  drift;  for  sud- 
denly the  wind  grew  wilder,  and  a  mighty  voice 
shook  the  black  pines  that  skirted  the  base  of  the 
hills ;  but  the  tall  reeds  that  she  looked  for  so 
anxiously  did  not  appear !  Again  she  had  mistaken 


SPECLETON   BELLS.  151 

her  path,  for  long  ere  this  she  ought  to  have 
reached  the  desired  spot.  N'ever  had  she  imagined 
anything  like  the  cruel,  stinging  cold.  Her  hands 
became  powerless ;  when  she  tried  to  wrap  her 
shawl  more  tightly  round  her,  the  stiffened  fingers 
refused  to  obey  her  will ;  and  her  feet,  she  felt, 
would  carry  her  but  a  little  while  longer.  Her 
weariness,  too,  was  extreme,  and  she  was  well-nigh 
sinking  with  exhaustion.  She  began  to  be  drowsy, 
and  at  the  same  time  she  was  conscious  of  feeling 
the  cold  less  acutely;  and  well  she  knew  what  those 
terrible  symptoms  betokened  !  If  only  she  yielded 
for  one  minute,  if  she  gave  her  trembling,  half- 
palsied  limbs  one  moment's  rest  on  the  cold  ground, 
that  seemed  to  woo  her  sinking  frame  to  repose,  she 
knew  full  well  that  soon  would  come  sleep,  the 
sleep  that  knows  no  waking  in  this  world !  So  she 
struggled  on,  blindly  and  aimlessly,  caring  only  to 
keep  herself  in  motion,  and  resisting  with  all  the 
energy  that  remained,  the  torpor  that  was  so  rapidly 
stealing  over  her  senses.  Once  she  had  nearly  suc- 
cumbed: she  paused,  tottering,  by  a  little  hollow 
that  seemed  rather  sheltered  from  the  blast,  and  the 
temptation  to  rest  there  awhile  was  nearly  irre- 
sistible, while  the  pleadings  of  reason  were  waxing 
fainter  anl  fainter  every  moment.  Suddenly  a 
loud  peal  of  bells  rang  out  from  some  church  near  at 
hand.  They  were  not  the  familiar  Oldminster  bells, 
and  Bertha  knew  they  must  be  the  Specleton  bells, 


152  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

because  Specleton  was  the  only  village  within  many 
miles  that  boasted  of  a  complete  octave.  Then  she 
must  have  wandered  very  far  away ;  she  must  have 
reached  the  verge  of  the  dangerous  Specleton  Bog, 
where  there  was  treacherous  ground,  and  several 
very  deep  pits ;  and  there  seemed  little  hope  of  her 
being  found  by  those  whom  she  knew  would  seek 
her  at  the  risk  of  their  own  lives. 

The  sound  of  the  bells  roused  her  failing  senses, 
and  she  burst  into  tears.  The  snow  had  ceased  to 
fall,  the  stars  were  shining,  and  the  wind  only 
raged  at  intervals.  Around  her  stretched  the  white, 
trackless  waste,  and  far  away  lay  the  shadow  of 
the  silent  hills.  Merrily  rang  the  peal,  as  its 
sonorous  music  now  swelled  and  now  died  on  the 
uncertain  breeze ;  but  it  seemed  to  Bertha  the 
saddest  dirge  she  had  ever  heard,  for  every  bell 
seemed  ringing  out  her  own  death-knell. 

Yes!  it  was  useless  to  struggle  any  more!  She 
was  going  to  die,  going  into  the  presence  of  God 
Himself!  She  gazed  up  to  the  burning  stars  in 
irrepressible  agony ;  they  looked  so  calm  and  beau- 
tiful, while  she  trembled  beneath  their  rays, 
knowing  that  very  soon  that  shining  host  would 
look  down  on  eyes  that  death  had  closed  for  ever ! 

Whither  was  she  going  ?  The  wearied  and  suf- 
fering limbs  would  be  at  rest ;  the  aching,  bewildered 
head  would  lie  quietly  on  its  snowy  pillow,  but 
the  soul,  that  was  gifted  with  immortality! — 


SPECLETON    BELLS.  153 

whither,  oh  whither  was  that  wending  its  lonely 
way?  In  that  hour  of  mortal  agony  the  veil  of 
false  self-appreciation  was  torn  away,  and  Bertha 
knew  herself  for  a  poor,  helpless,  contemptible  crea- 
ture, filled  only  with  self  and  pride  and  worldliness ! 
Strangely,  startlingly  clear  were  the  records  of 
faithful  memory :  she  looked  back  on  the  seventeen 
years  that  had  been  crowded  with  mercies,  and 
brightened  with  God's  choicest  blessings ;  every  step 
of  the  way  she  beheld  once  more,  and  she  saw 
herself,  in  the  pride  and  foolishness  of  her  heart, 
turning  away  from  every  loving  invitation,  from 
every  tender  warning,  walking  in  her  own  ways ; 
refusing  the  gracious  call  of  the  Holy  One,  and 
scorning  the  pleasant  paths  of  humility  and  peace ! 

"What  now  to  her  was  the  loss  of  her  ancestral 
home?  What  would  all  the  riches  and  rank  and 
advantages  of  the  world  avail,  now  that  her  fear 
came  as  desolation,  and  her  destruction  as  a  whirl- 
wind ?  Distress  and  anguish  were  come  upon  her, 
and  she  would  have  given  years  of  temporal 
grandeur  for  one  sure  hope  of  the  joy  that  they 
feel  and  know  who,  through  Christ,  have  passed 
from  death  unto  life  eternal !  She  thought  of  her 
home— her  home,  that  in  her  wicked,  foolish  vanity 
she  had  despised — her  home,  that  she  might  never- 
see  any  more !  She  thought  of  her  mother — of  her 
sisters  and  brothers — her  cousins,  to  whom  she 
would  never  say  farewell !  Instinctively  she  knew 


154  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

who  of  that  loved  and  absent  circle  were  children  of 
the  Kingdom.  Of  all  of  them,  only  Katty  and 
Milly  had  taken  sure  hold  of  the  glorious  hope  of 
the  Gospel ;  and  perhaps  Janet — yes !  a  few  words 
that  had  escaped  the  lips  of  her  young  cousin  that 
very  morning,  though  strange  and  meaningless  then, 
spoke  volumes  now — Janet  had  certainly  found  the 
pearl  of  great  price ;  and  she  was  willing  to  yield  all 
else,  so  that  that  inestimable  treasure  might  be  hers 
for  evermore ! 

Poor  Bertha !  the  struggle  was  over  now !  She 
had  striven  bravely  but  in  vain,  and  at  last  she 
sank  down  helpless  as  an  infant  on  the  white,  cold 
bed  that  was  waiting  to  receive  her.  She  tried  to 
pray,  but  real  prayer  was  strange  and  difficult ;  be- 
sides, a  soft  dreaminess  was  stealing  over  her  senses, 
and  the  words  that  her  stiffening  lips  tried  to  frame 
died  away  in  incoherent  wanderings.  She  did  say 
once,  "0  my  God,  save  me!  send  me  deliverance!" 
And  then  she  seemed  to  be  wandering  in  the  old 
garden  at  Lillingstone,  and  she  was  a  child  once 
more ;  and  she  heard  the  voices  of  her  sisters  at  play ; 
and  she  saw  the  baby  of  old  time,  that  went  very 
early  to  its  heavenly  home ;  and  her  mother,  grave, 
yet  happy ;  and  her  father  pacing  the  green  alleys, 
,  and  wearing  all  the  vigour  and  beauty  of  his  best 
days !  And  then  came  a  moment  of  consciousness, 
and  she  knew  the  freezing  snow,  and  the  desolate 
moor,  and  the  mournful  bells,  that  were  chanting  her 


SPECLETOtf  BELLS.  155 

requiem !  And  then  there  was  a  blank :  the  icy 
arms  held  her  more  closely ;  the  vigorous  life  that  a 
few  hours  before  had  throbbed  and  glowed  strong 
and  warm  in  her  veins,  was  chilled  and  stagnant ; 
there  was  but  a  step  between  her  and  the  eternal 
world ! 

Meanwhile  the  young  men  had  sought,  and  sought 
in  vain;  and  had  no  further  aid  arrived,  Bertha 
must  have  perished  where  she  lay,  on  Hasleslack 
Moor.  Eut  the  news  of  her  loss  had  spread  over 
the  town,  and  many  men,  both  young  and  old,  had 
sallied  out  to  join  in  the  search.  The  last  of  these 
kind  volunteers  was  Granville  Golding,  the  eldest 
son  of  the  banker ;  and  he  was  last  only  because  the 
terrible  tidings  did  not  reach  his  family  till  long 
after  the  rest  of  Oldminster  was  afoot,  and  on  the 
way  to  the  heath.  It  was  Milly  who  brought  him 
the  news,  for  she  remembered  that  he  possessed  a 
dog  of  the  celebrated  St.  Bernard  species,  who  was 
said  to  have  the  scent  and  sagacity  of  a  bloodhound 
in  tracking  man  or  beast.  She  brought  with  her 
Bertha's  morning-dress,  and  she  begged  Granville  to 
show  it  to  the  dog,  and  let  him  go  with  her  to 
Hasleslack  Moor. 

The  young  man  called  his  dog  instantly,  and  the 
creature  seemed  fully  to  understand  what  was 
required  of  him ;  and  then  Milly,  who  would  not 
listen  to  reason,  Mr.  Granville  Golding,  and  the  dog, 
set  forth  on  their  anxious  enterprise. 


156  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

Kear  the  tarn  they  found  the  baffled  seekers ;  and 
the  sight  of  the  dog  was  indeed  welcome  to  those 
who  had  wandered  till  they  had  feared  themselves 
to  fall  into  fatal  danger,  and  who  had  shouted  till 
their  voices  were  hroken  and  hoarse.  Even  Milly's 
appearance  on  the  moor  did  not  greatly  surprise 
either  Alfred  or  Eric,  so  intense  was  the  excitement, 
and  so  thrilling  the  fears  by  which  they  were  pos- 
sessed. A  little  longer,  and  aid  would  be  too  late ! 

Another  half-hour ;  and  then  was  heard  the  loud, 
importunate  barking  of  the  dog.  "  She  is  found !  " 
cried  both  Alfred  and  Eric  at  once ;  but  Hilly  could 
not  speak, — had  they  found  the  living  Bertha,  or 
only  the  soulless  clay  ?  Presently  they  brought  her 
in  their  arms  to  the  spot  where  Mildred  stood,  and 
hastily  rubbing  her  chest  and  temples  with  brandy, 
and  trying  to  pour  a  little  into  her  mouth,  they 
wrapped  her  in  the  plaids  that  were  brought  in 
profusion,  and  carried  her  with  all  speed  over  the 
moor,  across  the  bridge  of  Keir,  and  down  the  lanes 
to  the  high-road,  where  Mr.  Golding's  close  carriage 
was  waiting. 

And  all  the  way  to  Oldminster  Milly  chafed  the 
cold  hands,  and  rubbed  the  unheaving  chest,  and 
tried  to  administer  cordials  ;  but  when  they  reached 
home,  it  seemed  a  dead,  and  not  a  living  maiden, 
they  bore  to  the  presence  of  her  anguished  mother. 


FKOM  DEATH  UNTO   LIFE  !  157 


CHAPTER  XII. 

DEATH  UNTO   LIFE! 


BERTHA  did  not  die,  but  for  many  days  she  seemed 
hovering  on  the  brink  of  the  grave.  Yery  tenderly 
was  she  nursed  by  the  pale,  watching  mother,  and 
the  gentle  sisterhood,  who  never  wearied  of  their 
vigils  or  relaxed  in  their  anxious  care.  And  Janet 
and  Lady  Campbell  also  shared  the  fatigues  of  the 
sick-room,  and  Flora  Golding  came  to  offer  her 
services,  and  the  whole  town  of  Oldminster  vied 
with  each  other  in  their  inquiries  and  solicitude  for 
Miss  Bertha  Lillingstone.  And  Bertha  herself  lay 
silent  and  motionless  on  her  bed,  seeming  to  heed 
nothing  that  passed  around  her,  and  taking  nourish- 
ment as  it  were  mechanically,  and  yet  with  excessive 
difficulty.  Whether  she  slept,  or  whether  she  was 
overcome  by  stupor  it  was  not  easy  to  decide  ;  but 
hour  after  hour  glided  by  in  that  hushed  and 
darkened  room,  and  no  word  or  sigh  escaped  her 
pallid  lips,  and  no  shadow  of  pain  or  of  pleasure,  no 
trace  of  any  kind  of  emotion  passed  over  the  still 


1 58  TEE   LILLINGSTONES. 

lovely  features,  that  wore  so  death-like  an  aspect  of 
repose. 

Tears  were  rained  from  loving  eyes ;  fondest 
words  were  breathed  from  trembling  lips ;  and 
prayers  were  offered  by  her  quiet  couch ;  and  she 
knew  not  who  were  gathered  around  her.  The  day 
faded  into  darkness ;  the  long  night  wore  away  its 
heavy,  weary  hours  of  dread  and  watch,  and  morning 
came  again  and  chased  away  the  shadows  of  the 
gloomy  winter  dawn ;  but  all  was  one  long  blank — 
one  trance-like  rest  to  the  unconscious  girl. 

But  one  day  there  were  blessed  signs  of  amend- 
ment ;  there  were  moans  expressive  of  weariness  and 
pain,  and  there  was  motion,  and  more  perceptible 
pulsation.  The  bonds  that  had  wrapped  her  spirit 
from  the  hour  when  she  had  sunk  down,  as  she 
feared  and  believed,  to  die  on  Hasleslack  Moor,  were 
loosened  at  last,  and  deep  in  the  night  she  fully 
awoke  to  comprehension  of  the  present,  and  remem- 
brance of  the  past.  Dreamily  she  listened  to  the 
striking  of  the  clock  down- stairs,  as  it  told  the  hour 
of  two  ;  and  she  thought  of  the  last  sounds  that  had 
fallen  on  her  ear — the  weary,  clanging  Specleton 
bells!  She  tried  to  turn,  but  she  found  herself 
nearly  helpless,  and  the  effort  exhausted  her  little 
strength  and  sent  a  painful  thrill  through  her 
nerves  ;  but  her  mind  remained  clear,  and  gradually 
she  was  able  to  recall  every  scene  and  every  emotion 
of  that  terrible  night  on  the  moors.  Presently  the 


FROM   DEATH   UNTO  LIFE!  159 

curtain  was  drawn  back,  and  she  felt  rather  than 
saw  the  earnest  gaze  that  was  bent  upon  her.  Then 
a  gentle  familiar  voice  said,  ' l  Bertha  ! '  '  and  she 
whispered  faintly  but  distinctly,  "Yes,  Katty!" 
and  like  the  music  sounding  from  afar,  she  heard 
Katty' s  murmured  words  of  praise  and  thanksgiving. 
She  took  the  medicine,  and  then  the  food  her  sister 
offered ;  and  after  a  little  restlessness,  that  was  a 
positive  relief  to  behold,  after  the  long  death-like 
stupor  that  had  oppressed  their  spirits  so  long,  she 
fell  into  a  gentle  natural  sleep,  and  the  morning 
found  her,  weak  indeed,  but  in  full  possession  of  all 
her  faculties. 

From  that  time  her  recovery  was  progressive, 
though  tedious  ;  and  in  a  few  days  she  was  able  to 
leave  her  bed,  and  sit  or  lie  on  a  sofa  by  the  fire. 
And  what  were  her  thoughts  duiing  this  period  of 
seclusion?  Did  she  commune  with  her  own  heart 
through  the  long  quiet  days  and  in  the  lonely 
watches  of  the  night?  Even  so.  Bertha  Lilling- 
stone  could  not  forget  that  she  had  stood  on  the  very 
verge  of  the  eternal  world !  She  had  tasted  some- 
what of  the  bitterness  of  death  ;  she  had  felt  some- 
what of  its  mortal  sting  !  She  had  been  for  a  brief 
while  face  to  face  with  the  King  of  Terrors,  and 
the  despair,  the  blank  darkness,  and  the  unspeak- 
able agony  of  that  hour  was  still  as  vivid  as  ever, 
and  she  knew  that  still  she  was  unreconciled  to  her 
God,  and  still  unprepared  for  the  Master's  call  should 


1 60  THE  .LILLINGSTONES. 

it    reach  her  in  her  peaceful    and  love-encircled 
home ! 

One  afternoon  she  was  lying  as  usual  on  the  sofa, 
trying  to  interest  herself  in  one  of  the  many  books 
which  were  heaped  on  her  table.  But  in  vain  she 
scanned  the  pages  before  her;  like  Hamlet,  she 
seemed  to  read  "  words,  words,  words,"  with  only 
a  fleeting  and  indistinct  perception  of  the  sense. 
And  this  was  Bertha* — the  practical,  unromantic, 
self-disciplined  Bertha  Lillingstone !  Had  the  shock 
of  her  terrible  adventure  unsettled  the  powers  of 
memory,  and  weakened  the  force  of  reason?  Had 
illness  obscured  her  mental  vision,  or  weakness 
paralysed  and  bewildered  her  brain  ?  .  No  !  In  spite 
of  suffering  and  debility  her  faculties  were  clear,  and 
her  reasoning  powers  as  strong  as  ever !  She  could 
not  read,  she  could  not  talk,  she  could  not  endure 
herself,  because  her  heart  was  heavy  and  her  spirit 
was  disquieted  within  her!  She  could  not  put 
away  from  her  the  thoughts  that  harassed  and 
terrified  her ;  and  she  would  not  if  she  could — for, 
let  us  give  Bertha  her  due,  she  was  free  from  the 
weakness  of  refusing  to  encounter  a  difficulty  because 
it  was  painful  and  distressing  to  contemplate.  She 
knew  now  what  she  had  never  suspected  before,  that 
her  long-cherished  sense  of  superiority  had  been  but 
a  long- cherished  delusion.  She  felt  that  so  far  she 
had  •  lived  unworthily — nay,  contemptibly !  Bertha 
had  had  an  idea  that  she  had  been  worldly  in  her 


FROM   DEATH  UNTO   LIFE  !  161 

aims,  especially  in  those  views  which  she  had 
confided  to  Helen  a  little  time  hefore ;  hut  then  she 
had  reasoned  herself  into  complacence  again  hy  the 
reflection  that  it  is  every  one's  duty  to  make  the  hest 
of  this  world,  provided  it  can  he  done  without  in 
juring  one's  prospects  of  the  world  to  come.  An 
indubitable  truth !  only  the  latter  clause  is  pregnant 
with  anxiety,  and  it  takes  no  ordinary  mind  to 
decide  whether  the  "{f"  shall  •  be  satisfactorily 
determined  or  otherwise.  Is  it  not  better  to  take 
for  ore's  motto — "  Seek  ye  first  the  kingdom  of  God 
and  His  righteousness,  and  all  these  things  shall  be 
added  unto  you." 

Bertha  owned  to  herself  now  that  she  had  been 
seeking  the  joy  and  the  glory  of  this  life  to  the  utter 
exclusion  of  the  bliss  of  eternity.  But  it  never 
occurred  to  her  that  her  habits  of  order  and  neatness, 
her  precision,  her  managing  tactics,  even  in  ordinary 
household  matters,  were  as  purely  worldly  in  them- 
selves as  her  ambitious  schemes  for  restoration  to 
the  position  and  grandeur  which  it  had  pleased  God 
to  take  away  from  herself  and  her  family.  She  did 
not  and  could  not  see  that  even  the  humblest  and 
most  trivial  duties  may  evidence,  in  what  appears  to 
be  their  most  painstaking,  self-denying,  and  con- 
scientious discharge,  a  spirit  of  unmingled  worldli- 
ness;  even  as  when  touched  with  the  golden 
tincture — "For  Thy  sake" — they  wear  a  glory  and 
a  beauty  that  is  lacking  in  the  most  magnificent 
M 


162  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

actions,  prompted  and  performed  by  mere  earthly 
incentive,  and  for  earthly  praise. 

Still  Bertha,  as  she  communed  with  herself,  con- 
fessed her  sin  and  her  folly ;  and  she  asked,  too,  to 
be  forgiven  for  the  error  and  worldliness  of  her 
ways.  But  no  sense  of  pardon,  no  sweet  answer  of 
peace  came  to  cheer  her  drooping,  sorrowful  soul. 
God  was  still  to  her  a  God  afar  off.  The  Saviour 
was  for  her  the  Saviour  of  sinners,  but  not  her 
Bedeemer,  and  her  beloved  Lord.  She  knew  His 
power  and  His  love.  His  infinite  compassion  touched, 
but  it  did  not  subdue  her  heart ;  and  like  the  sinful 
prophet  of  ancient  Israel,  she  was  fain  to  say — "I 
shall  see  Him,  but  not  now ;  I  shall  behold  Him, 
but  not  nigh  !"  She  had  lain  long  engrossed  with 
these  weary  and  bitter  thoughts,  altogether  unmind- 
ful of  the  presence  of  her  aunt,  who  sat  silently 
sewing  and  musing  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
hearth.  But  presently  Lady  Campbell,  who  hrd 
watched  her  tenderly  and  anxiously,  spoke — 

"  Bertha,  love,  your  brow  looks  very  weary ;  you 
have  been  meditating  deeply  since  your  dinner;  I 
am  afraid  you  have  not  had  happy  thoughts." 

"]N"o,  no!"  sighed  Bertha,  emphatically. 

* '  Will  you  tell  me  your  thoughts,  dearest  ?  It  is 
good  sometimes  to  talk  over  one's  troubles  and  per- 
plexities. What  has  been  lying  on  your  heart  so 
heavily  for  the  last  hour  ?  " 

Had  Bertha  spoken  the  words  that  were  striving 


FROM   DEATH   UNTO   LIFE!  163 

for  utterance,  she  would  have  cried  as  the  Reformer 
once  cried  in  his  cloister  at  Erfurt — "My  sins!  my 
sins !  "  But  pride  was  strong  at  her  heart,  and  she 
could  not  humble  herself  to  confess  the  whole 
agonising  truth !  Besides  she  had  always  acted  and 
spoken  in  her  aunt's  presence  as  a  professor  of 
religion,  and  if  now  she  disclosed  the  burden  of  her 
soul,  would  not  Lady  Campbell  believe  her  to  be  a 
hypocrite  ?  So  she  answered,  half  hesitatingly,  for 
she  felt  that  she  was  not  sincere — "  I  was  thinking, 
aunt,  of  that  night  on  the  Moor ;  of  the  moment 
when  I  lost  the  last  glimmering  of  hope ;  when  I 
thought  I  had  seen  you  all  for  the  last  time !"  and 
she  shuddered  visibly  as  she  spoke. 

"But,  my  dear,  when  the  last  glimpse  of  earthly 
hope  died  away,  I  trust  there  was  still  the  hope  that 
even  death  cannot  crush?  Ah!  that  hope  is  the 
hope  that  maketh  not  ashamed :  it  is  not  quenched 
in  the  cold  waters  of  Jordan,  for  it  rises  above  the 
damps  of  the  dark  valley,  and  it  lights  up  the 
gloomy  billows,  and,  like  the  star  of  morning,  shines 
on  in  its  own  pure  lustre  till  it  is  lost  in  the  splen- 
dour of  the  glorious  sun — the  Sun  of  Righteousness, 
my  Bertha,  in  whom  the  Christian's  hope,  in  life 
and  in  death,  in  joy  and  in  sorrow,  always  concen- 
trates." 

Bertha  made  no  reply ;  for  despair,  and  not  hope, 

.  had  been  her  portion  when  she  caught  that  brief 

but   terrible   glimpse   of  the   swellings  of  Jordan, 


164  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

There  had  been  no  light  on  the  waves,  no  kindly 
voice  to  soothe  her  mortal  fears  ;  no  fair  and  distant 
vision  of  the  land  where  the  saints  are  gathered 
round  their  Master's  feet.  No !  all  had  been  dark- 
ness, and  dreariness,  and  dread. 

Lady  Campbell  looked  anxiously  at  her  niece; 
she  had  feared  from  the  first  that  Bertha's  goodness 
was  unsubstantial;  she  had  been  almost  sure  that 
her  hope  was  founded  on  the  sand,  that  would  shift, 
and  sink,  and  make  shipwreck  of  her  peace  whenever 
the  trial  of  her  faith  should  come.  In  a  word, 
Bertha  was  not  a  new  creature  in  Christ  Jesus  ;  she 
was  not  resting  on  His  word,  or  rejoicing  in  his  love. 
She  had  never  learned  to  say — 

"  Jesus !  Thy  blood  and  righteousness 
My  beauty  are,  my  glorious  dress. 
Midst  flaming  worlds,  in  these  arrayed, 
With  joy  shall  I  lift  up  my  head !  " 

"  My  dear  Bertha,"  said  Lady  Campbell,- at  length 
perceiving  her  niece's  reserve,  " there  were  many 
paths  on  that  wild  Hasleslack  Moor  ;  some  led  into 
the  morass,  some  into  pitfalls,  some  into  the  rocky 
precipitous  passes  of  the  hills,  some  were  mere  sheep 
tracks — delusions  that  ended  in  nothing  ;  but  there 
was  only  one  which  led  to  the  Bridge  of  Keir,  over 
which  lay  your  safety  and  your  home.  And  so 
there  are  paths  innumerable  in  the  wilderness  of 
life  ;  paths  that  allure  and  deceive ;  paths  that  lead 
to  death  and  to  misery  ;  but  there  is  but  the  one  path 


FROM   DEATH   UNTO   LIFE!  165 

that  leads  the  sinner  safely  and  surely  home.  There 
is  a  labyrinth  of  tracks,  but  only  one  way  to  the 
city  of  the  Great  King ! " 

"How  shall  we  know  the  way?"  asked  Bertha, 
earnestly.  The  power  and  fervour  of  her  aunt's 
words  were  melting  some  of  the  icy  outworks  of 
long-cherished  pride  and  self-esteem. 

"Dear  child,"  returned  Lady  Campbell,  "that 
question  was  asked  in  old  time  of  our  Blessed  Lord 
Himself.  Hear  His  gracious  answer  in  His  own 
words.  I  am  the  "Way,  the  Truth,  and  the  Life ! 
no  man  cometh  unto  the  Father  but  by  Me  ! ' ' 

"  Aunt,"  said  Bertha,  abruptly,  "  did  you  always 
feel  as  you  do  now?  Have  you  been  a  Christian 
long?" 

"  For  some  years,  my  dear  Bertha,  I  trust  I  have 
been  walking  in  the  King's  highway;  and  I  need 
not  say  that  once  my  feelings  were  altogether 
opposed  to  those  which  are  now  my  chief  joy  and 
my  truest  comfort.  It  grieves  me  to  say  that  all 
my  youth  and  the  sunny  years  of  my  early  married 
life  were  spent  in  worldly  cares  and  pleasures.  I 
did  not  love  God.  How  could  I,  since  the  carnal 
mind  is  enmity  against  God  ?  I  did  .not  receive  or 
hold  my  purest  blessings — my  husband,  my  children, 
my  happy  home,  or  my  unbroken  health — from  His 
hand.  I  was  like  a  ship  on  a  dangerous  sea  without 
either  captain,  chart,  or  compass ;  what  wonder  tKat 


166  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

when  I  came  among  the  breakers  there  was  a  fearful 
wreck ! " 

"How  was  it,  aunt?"  asked  Bertha  with  deep 
interest. 

"My  dear,"  returned  Lady  Campbell,  in  a  tremu- 
lous voice  that  told  of  many  past  tears  and  many 
an  hour  of  sadness,  "I  had  other  children  besides 
Eric  and  Janet.  My  dear  sister,  your  mother,  has 
one  sweet  babe  in  glory;  I  have  four.  Yes,  four 
little  ones,  who  came  between  Eric  and  Janet,  filled 
my  arms  successively.  They  passed  through  their 
earliest  infancy — they  learned  to  lisp  their  father7 s 
name  and  mine — they  lived  to  be  most  lovely 
and  most  engaging — and  then — then  the  Good 
Shepherd,  who  carries  the  lambs  in  His  arms, 
gathered  my  darlings  into  His  own  blessed  fold! 
And,  Bertha,  I  was  wild  in  my  agony;  I  was  not 
like  the  pious  German  mother,  of  whom  the  poet 

says — 

'  He  died— but  that  fond  mother 

Her  sorrow  did  restrain  ; 
She  knew  he  was  with  Jesus, 
And  she  asked  him  not  again.' 

My  grief  was  bitter  and  fierce,  for  it  was  im- 
chastened  ;  and  when  the  last  of  my  babes  was  laid 
in  the  dust,  and  Eric  alone  remained,  I  lay  down,  as 
I  trusted — awfully  and  blindly  trusted — to  die  !  I 
was  world-weary  ;  my  children  were  not ;  and,  like 
llachel,  I  refused  to  be  comforted.  Mine  was  the 


FROM  DEATH   UNTO   LIFE!  167 

sorrow  of  this  world  that  worketh  death.  But  God 
was  merciful.  He  did  not  grant  my  wicked  prayer, 
but  He  gave  me  another  baby — my  dearest  Janet — 
whom  He  leaves  me  still.  I  had  just  recovered 
after  her  birth,  when  there  came  a  poor  preacher  to 
our  glens,  and  according  to  the  custom  of  my 
husband's  house,  as  he  was  a  holy  man,  he  was 
received  at  the  castle.  God  sent  him  with  a  message 
to  many  a  heart  in  the  wild  vales,  and  among  the 
hills  of  Strathallan ;  but  he  might  have  said  to  me 
alone — '  I  have  a  message  from  God  unto  thee ! '  I 
had  told  him  my  tale  of  bereavement,  and  I  showed 
him  the  graves  of  my  transplanted  flowerets,  and  he 
said  to  me — 'Lady  of  Strathallan,  your  precious 
babes  are  with  our  dear  Lord  Jesus  Christ ;  they  arc 
singing  before  the  throne  the  new  song  that  none  but 
the  redeemed  may  learn.  They  cannot  come  to  you. 
Will  you  go  to  them  ? '  The  good  man  saw,  Bertha, 
that  I  was  not  meet  for  the  inheritance  of  the  saints, 
and  his  soul  yearned  for  the  salvation  of  mine.  God 
blessed  his  words ;  they  laid  hold  of  my  heart. 
I  saw  my  own  sin,  and  misery,  and  desolation,  and, 
led  by  the  Blessed  Spirit,  I  went  to  the  foot  of  the 
cross,  and  there  I  laid  my  burden  of  sin,  and  shame, 
and  grief.  And  as  I  knelt  there,  I  saw  by  faith  the 
face  of  Him  who  loved  me,  and  gave  Himself  for 
me.  I  knew  His  smile ;  I  heard  His  voice ;  and  in 
that  hour  my  heart  went  out  to  Him,  and  I  clave  to* 
Him ;  and  He,  the  holy  and  the  loving  Jesus,  took 


168  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

me  to  Himself  and  dried  my  tears,  and  chased  away 
my  dread,  and  since  then — 

*  The  opening  Heavens  around  me  shine, 

With  beams  of  sacred  bliss, 
While  Jesus  shows  His  love  is  mine, 
And  tells  me  I  am  His ! ' " 

"And  Janet?"  asked  Bertha;  " she  feels  as  you 
do?" 

"Yes;  God  has  twice  given  me  my  daughter 
Janet.  Once  he  laid  her  in  my  aching  arms,  a  frail 
helpless  little  baby,  to  gladden  my  heart ;  and  again 
he  gave  her  to  me  as  a  sister  in  Christ.  Blessed  be 
His  name,  Janet  and  her  mother  are  one  in  Him!" 

"And  Eric?"  further  pursued  Bertha.  There 
was  a  fascination  in  her  aunt's  words  that  she  could 
not  resist,  and  she  craved  to  hear  good  news  of 
Eric  also. 

"Thank  God!"  replied  Lady  Campbell,  with  a 
grave  joy  that  was  beautiful  to  behold,  "my  son 
Eric — my  only  son  on  earth — marches  under  the 
banners  of  our  Heavenly  King.  So  you  see,  my  love ; 
some  of  my  children  are  in  heaven,  and  some  still 
here  with  me ;  but  they  are  all  one  in  their  blessed 
Saviour,  and  one  day  the  broken  circle  will  be  made 
perfect  again.  Through  the  grace  and  mercy  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ  parents  and  children  have  alike 
passed  from  death  unto  life---life  eternal  and  full  of 
glory." 

"From   death   unto  life!"     Such  had  been  the 


FROM   DEATH   UNTO   LIFE  !  169 

transition  through  which  Bertha's  mortal  frame  had 
lately  passed ;  but  her  soul  was  still  in  bonds  and 
darkness  of  death,  and  involuntarily  she  echoed  the 
words— "  from  death  unto  life !  " 

Her  aunt  replied  solemnly,  "  Dear  Bertha,  ponder 
those  words  in  your  heart,  and  ask  God  to  teach  you 
their  momentous  import.  Are  you  willing  to  lie 
still  dead  in  trespasses  and  in  sins?  or  will  you 
seek  Him  in  whom  alone  we  have  *  Eternal  Life  ?  ' 
Remember,  dear,  no  half  measures  will  avail ;  the 
change  must  be  from  one  extreme  to  the  other — 
'  from  death  unto  life ! '  " 


170  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

HARROP    COURT. 

MRS.  LILLINGSTONE'S  dinner-party  was  given  at  last; 
but  it  was  a  very  different  affair  from  that  which 
was  originally  planned.  It  took  place  on  the  eve  of 
the  departure  of  Lady  Campbell  and  her  son  for 
town;  and  the  only  guests  were  the  Herberts, 
Dr.  and  Mrs.  Armstrong,  and  Mr.  Granville  Golding 
and  his  sister  Flora.  There  was  no  beating  up  for 
curates,  no  question  of  the  Harrops ;  and  Bertha 
herself  only  appeared  in  the  drawing-room,  while 
Milly  and  Janet  took  their  places  at  the  dinner-table 
as  a  matter  of  course. 

Bertha  was  very  nearly  as  well  as  usual ;  indeed 
she  had  been  to  church  twice ;  but  her  medical 
attendant  strictly  prohibited,  for  some  time  at  least, 
anything  that  was  likely  to  cause  excitement ;  and, 
therefore,  her  mother  and  her  aunt  judged  it  best 
that  she  should  dine  early,  and  meet  her  friends 
only  when  they  returned  from  the  dining-room, 
and  Bertha  acquiesced  with  the  sweetest  grace 
imaginable. 


HARROP  COURT.  171 

"Was  she  really  altered?  That  was  a  question 
that  puzzled  more  heads  than  one.  Certainly,  she 
seemed  more  thoughtful  and  less  demure ;  she  hegan 
to  read  poetry,  and  there  was  a  pensive  shadow  on 
her  face  that  added  to  her  heauty  the  only  charm 
which  it  had  lacked.  She  disclosed  to  Helen,  who 
was  her  constant  companion,  no  more  schemes  of 
aggrandisement;  neither  did  she  scold  and  lecture 
Milly  at  all ;  and  she  never  seemed  to  forget  that  it 
was  her  awkward,  careless  sister,  who  had  heen  the 
first  and  only  person  to  think  of  Granville  Golding's 
dog,  which  had  been,  humanly  speaking,  the  sole 
agent  in  her  discovery. 

Still  it  could  not  he  determined  whether  the 
outward  and  visible  change  was  the  sign  of  a  hidden 
and  spiritual  work.  Only  God,  and  Eertha  herself, 
knew  how  far  the  change  had  gone !  Her  conver- 
sation with  Lady  Campbell  had  deeply  impressed 
her,  and  she  had  resolved  that  when  she  once  more 
returned  to  active  pursuits  she  would  lead  a  new 
life,  rule  her  temper — which  she  was  now  privately 
convinced  was  all  but  intolerable — and,  above  all 
things,  pay  more  secret  and  serious  attention  to  the 
religious  duties,  in  the  outward  and  decorous  dis- 
charge of  which  she  had,  however,  never  been 
deficient. 

Her  schemes  of  ambition  were  the  hardest  to 
relinquish;  and  as  time  passed  on,  and  her  health 
became  confirmed,  she  began  to  think  whether  it 


172  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

was  really  necessary  that  they  should  be  given  up 
at  all ;  and,  finally,  she  came  to  a  compromise,  and 
resolved  to  pursue  them  in  moderation  and  with 
caution.  While  she  lay  quietly  on  her  sofa,  it  was 
comparatively  easy  to  refrain  from  schemes  and 
castle-buildings ;  but  when  she  began  to  mingle  once 
more  with  household  concerns,  and  to  hear  daily 
and  hourly  news  of  the  outer  world,  the  temptation 
to  cogitate  and  to  lay  plans  was  irresistible. 

Besides,  she  found  herself  brought  prominently 
forward,  and  that  without  an  effort  of  her  own ; 
involuntarily  she  had  "become  a  heroine ;  and  one 
day,  she  unfortunately  chanced  to  hear  that  she  was 
called  "the  beauty  of  Oldminster." — "!NTo  very 
great  distinction,  though !  " — as  Alfred  remarked 
with  unwonted  causticity,  and,  as  Eertha  thought, 
with  unhrotheiiy  ill-nature. 

The  Herberts,  the  Armstrongs,  and  the  Millars 
sent  every  day  to  ask  after  her  health ;  the  Goldings 
came  morning,  noon,  and  night  to  make  inquiries. 
To  crown  all,  Sir  John  and  Lady  Harrop  paid  a  visit 
on  her  account ;  and  finding  her  tolerably  conva- 
lescent, persuaded  Mrs.  Lillingstone  to  let  them  take 
back  Katharine  and  Helen  for  the  rest  of  the  week. 

"A  decided  point  gained!"  said  Eertha  to  her- 
self, when  Helen  came  to  lament  the  untoward  state 
of  her  wardrobe — "and  gained,  too,  without  any 
kind  of  diplomacy.  I  begin  to  think  my  adventure 
on  Hasleslack  Moor  will  prove  the  source  of  many 


HARROP   COURT.  173 

advantages;  and  really,  the  principle  of  non-inter- 
vention seems  to  succeed  wonderfully.  A  friendly 
visit  of  several  days  is  exactly  what  I  wished ;  but 
I  never  could  see  how  to  compass  it.  How  I 
should  like  to  go  with  Katty  and  Helen  to  Harrop 
Court ! " 

And  then  Bertha  seriously  inclined  to  the  con- 
sideration of  poor  Helen's  troubles.  It  was  quite 
true  that  she  had  only  one  dress  fit  to  wear,  and 
that  her  only  bonnet  looked  decidedly  shabby  by 
the  side  of  Katty's,  who  took  good*  care  of  her 
things ;  and  what  was  worse  than  all,  Bertha 
thought,  there  was  a  miserable  deficiency  of  all 
those  minor  appliances  which  are  deemed  essential 
to  the  toilet  of  a  real  gentlwoman. 

And  no  wonder!  Helen  never  mended  gloves, 
except  on  compulsion ;  and  never  would  acknowledge 
the  truth  of  the  invaluable  axiom  that  tells  us  how 
"  a  stitch  in  time  saves  nine."  She  liked  to  dress 
handsomely,  but  she  had  no  idea  of  economising 
her  finery.  Lady  Campbell  had  brought  all  her 
nieces  expensive  Paisley  shawls;  Bertha's  had  ne- 
cessarily been  worn  but  once  or  twice ;  Katty,  and 
even  Milly,  had  been  very  choice  of  theirs ;  for  the 
weather,  all  through  January,  had  been  such  as  to 
call  for  i '  dreadnoughts "  and  waterproof  cloaks; 
but  Helen's  had  been  worn  whenever  she  left  the 
house ;  and,  on  the  preceding  Sunday  evening,  had 
been,  as  well  as  her  bonnet,  very  much  wet,  in  con- 


174  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

sequence  of  a  heavy  rain,  which  Katty  had  foreseen, 
and  provided  for  accordingly. 

"When  Bertha,  at  Helen's  piteous  request,  began 
to  turn  over  her  sister's  drawers,  her  old  tendency 
to  lecturing  returned  with  unlooked-for  violence, 
and  she  gave  herself  no  little  credit  for  repressing 
it.  She  could  not  quite  restrain  her  remarks ;  and, 
indeed,  there  was  sufficient  to  call  forth  the  strongest 
censures  from  a  more  lenient  and  less  precise  person 
than  Bertha.  The  beautiful  shawl  had  been  put 
away  damp  and  ill-folded ;  the  bonnet  hastily  dried 
by  the  fire,  and  consigned,  topsy-turvey,  to  its  usual 
receptacle ;  the  best  lace  collars  and  sleeves  had  all 
been  worn  once  or  twice,  so  that  all,  more  or  less, 
were  soiled ;  ribbons  were  creased  and  unfresh ; 
stockings  were  unmended,  or  in  the  wash ;  pocket- 
handkerchiefs  were  missing ;  walking-boots  wanting 
mending,  and  house-slippers  down  at  the  heel ! 

Bertha  began  in  her  usual  methodical  style. 
"When  she  wished  to  make  preparations  of  her  own, 
she  went  over  every  garment  and  adjunct  of  her 
under  and  outer  clothing,  and  laid  it,  after  due 
examination,  on  her  bed,  in  perfect  readiness.  She 
pursued  now  the  same  plan,  while  Helen  stood  piti- 
fully by,  rubbing  up  her  watch-chain,  and  lamenting 
the  want  of  means  which  precluded  her  keeping  her 
own  maid,  as  well  as  from  renovating  her  store  as 
often  as  was  requisite.  "And  there  are  such  pretty 
tilings  at  Mercer's,"  she  said  at  last,  almost  tear- 


HARROP   COURT.  175 

fully;  "such  a  lovely  terry  velvet  bonnet,  and  a 
tiny  muff,  that  would  just  suit  my  flounced  silk !  " 

"It  is  of  no  use  hankering  after  the  things  in 
Mercer's  shop !  "  replied  Bertha,  with  something  of 
her  natural  ascerbity :  "the  question  is,  can  you  go 
to  Harrop  Court,  or  must  you  stay  at  home  because 
you  have  not  decent  clothes  to  wear  ?  " 

The  tears  actually  stood  in  Helen's  beautiful 
brown  eyes.  Never!  no,  never,  had  she  read  of  a 
heroine  who  was  compelled  to  refuse  a  delightful 
invitation  because  she  had  not  wherewithal  to  make 
a  ]  espeetable  appearance. 

Eut  Bertha — true  to  her  resolutions,  and  feeling 
moreover  inwardly  delighted  at  the  prospect  of  one 
rf ttl  intimacy  with  the  Harrop  Court  people — resolved 
that  she  would  be  kind  and  generous,  and  that 
Helen  should  go,  and  cut  a  figure  besides.  And 
then  there  was  the  dear  delight  of  contriving  and 
managing,  and  that  Eertha  loved  above  all  things : 
so  it  behoved  her  to  be  amiable,  lest  Helen,  when 
other  obstacles  were  overcome,  should  have  to 
remain  at  home  on  account  of  her  red  eyes. 

"Come,  Helen,"  she  said  pleasantly,  "it's  no  use 
beginning  to  cry !  Of  course,  you  must  go ;  we 
must  arrange  things  immediately.  In  the  first 
place,  what  time  is  there  for  preparation?" 

"About  three  hours.  Lady  Harrop  is  gone  to 
Eolton;  the  carriage  will  be  here  again  at  four 
o'clock." 


176  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

"And  it  lias  just  struck  one!  Courage,  Helen! 
we  will  distinguish  ourselves.  Did  you  ever  hear  of 
the  cook  who  improvised  five  courses  out  of  a  cold 
shoulder  of  mutton  ?  " 

"  No,"  returned  Helen,  her  smiles  coming  again, 
as  the  prospect  of  her  visit  rose  more  brightly  before 
her;  "but  you  cannot  contrive  five  dresses  out  of 
one !  " 

"Not  exactly ;  you  do  not  require  five  dresses  for 
three  days.  Nevertheless,  we  will  emulate  the  skill 
of  the  culinary  Monsieur.  How  much  money  hm  e 
you?" 

Helen  counted  her  little  stock ;  it  was  seventeen 
shillings.  "Ah,  put  that  up  again,"  said  Bertha, 
"you  will  want  that;  you  cannot  go  to  Harrop 
Court  without  money: — let  me  see;  where  is  your 
bonnet?" 

Helen  displayed  it.  Eertha  called  it  "ruined;" 
and  its  Sunday-night's  wetting,  and  its  carelessly 
hurried  drying,  had  indeed  gone  far  to  render  it 
un wearable.  Eertha  hesitated ;  it  was  a  great  effort, 
but  she  was  determined  to  cultivate  unselfishness  ;  so 
she  said,  "  If  I  were  to  lend  you  my  bonnet,  would 
you  be  careful  of  it  ?  It  ib  as  fresh  as  the  clay  it 
came  home,  and  I  should  not  like  to  have  it  spoilt." 

"Oh,  I  will  not  spoil  it!"  cried  Helen,  charmed 
and  astonished  at  Eertha' s  generosity.  "  I  will  tell 
Katty  to  take  care  of  it  for  me." 

That    seemed  to   Eertha   the    most    satisfactory 


HARROP   COURT.  177 

assurance  that  could  be  given,  and  she  continued, 
"  But  my  blue  flowers  and  strings  will  not  suit  you 
at  all.  Look,  your  roses  are  pretty  well,  and  I  will 
quill  up  a  little  fresh  blond  for  you.  I  know 
mamina  has  plenty." 

" But  the  strings !  "  said  Helen,  ruefully;  "  all 
the  colour  and  substance  is  literally  washed  out  of 
them." 

"  You  must  have  fresh  ones ;  I  will  go  and  speak 
to  mamma  presently.  Now  let  us  go  on  to  the 
other  things.  Your  shawl  must  be  damped  and  ironed ; 
it  is  a  bad  thing  to  do,  but  there  is  no  alternative ; 
in  the  meantime  shake  it  out  well.  Now  for  your 
dresses ;  you  must  have  something  for  mornings. 
Lady  Harrop  will  not  expect  you  to  be  very  stylish ; 
but  you  cannot  come  down  to  breakfast  in  a  flounced 
silk." 

"  Of  course  not,"  said  Helen  resignedly. 

1 1  Well ;  here  is  your  merino.  Really,  Helen :  do 
you  never  have  these  things  brushed?  And  what 
is  this — grease?  Pick  that  spoiled  velvet  off  the 
sleeve  this  minute ;  then  take  the  lace  on0  your  old 
lavender  de-laine — it  will  trim  this  up  grandly.  We 
must  iron  the  skirt  as  well  as  brush  it;  and  my 
scouring-drops  will  take  out  these  stains  and  grease- 
spots.  If  you  ever  cooked,  I  should  think  you 
did  the  frying  and  basting  in  this  unfortunate 
merino!" 

Then   came    gloves,    collars,    ribbons,    &c. ;    and 


178  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

Bertha's  patience  and  ingenuity  were  both  taxed  t<^ 
the  utmost.  "New  gloves,  slippers,  and  bonnet-strings 
had  to  be  purchased  forthwith.  The  boot  was  sent 
to  the  shoemaker,  with  directions  for  a  speedy  and 
invisible  repair ;  Milly  arid  Janet  lent  each  a  collar ; 
Bertha  further  contributed  lace  sleeves;  and  Mrs. 
Lillingstone  produced  some  beautiful  ribbons  that 
remained  of  her  Lillingstone  propeities.  Bertha 
was  everywhere ;  poking  the  fire  that  the  irons 
might  heat  quickly — she  would  have  ironed  herself 
had  not  everybody  exclaimed  against  her  imprudence, 
and  assured  her  that  she  would  be  laid  up  again 
in  consequence — helping  Katty,  that  she  might  go 
out  and  do  Helen's  shopping;  quilling  blond,  making 
up  stylish  bows  and  rosettes,  and  putting  a  ^stitch 
here,  and  a  stitch  there,  as  occasion  required. 

Finally,  everything  was  ready;  and  Helen,  having 
packed  the  few  articles  she  wished  to  take  with  her, 
began  triumphantly  to  dress. 

At  four  o'clock,  punctually,  Lady  Harrop  returned; 
and  with  unspeakable  satisfaction  Bertha  saw  Sir 
John  handing  her  sisters  into  the  carriage.  Yes ! 
one  of  her  wishes  had  been  most  unexpectedly 
fulfilled.  It  had  been  her  most  secret  and  most 
cherished  scheme  to  visit  at  Harrop  Court,  for  she 
knew  that  there  the  best  society  might  always  be 
found ; — and  Bertha  was  not  like  a  child  who  throws 
a  stone  into  the  stream  and  then  stands  astonished 
at  the  rippling  circles  that  succeed.  She  knew  that 


HARROP   COURT.  179 

cause  precedes  effect,  and  having  cast  in  her  pebble 
of  a  plan,  she  waited  patiently  for  the  inevitable 
troubling  of  the  water. 

Katty  and  Helen  were  really  gone  to  Harrop 
Court ;  their  sojourn  there  must  in  reason  produce 
some  consequences;  and  then,  as  one  consequence 
produces  another,  there  was  no  saying  what  might 
be  the  consummation  of  a  visit  of  such  importance : 
if  only  she  had  been  going  herself !  But  then,  there 
was  no  doubt  that  she  too  would  be  Lady  Harrop' s 
guest  ere  long,  and  "trust  me,"  she  said,  com- 
placently, as  she  stood  at  the  dining-room  window, 
watching  the  carriage  to  the  end  of  the  High  Street 
— "  trust  me  for  making  the  best  of  such  an  intimacy. 
It  shall  not  be  my  own  fault  if  we  are  not  on  terms 
of  the  utmost  friendliness.  At  Harrop  Court  we 
cannot  fail  to  meet  persons  of  our  own  rank ;  and, 
reduced  and  impoverished  as  we  are,  we  must  ever  be 
the  Lillingstones  of  Lillingstone ! " 

And  then  Bertha  began  to  think  that  her  cogita- 
tions were  once  more  assuming  a  complexion  that, 
to  make  the  best  of  it,  were  purely  mundane ;  and 
she  felt  uncomfortable,  and  stood  for  a  long  time 
trying  to  reason  herself  back  into  complacency.  She 
remembered  how  she  had  controlled  her  temper,  how 
she  had  worked  for  Helen,  and  above  all,  how  she 
had  sacrificed  her  own  property  to  the  exigencies  of 
her  careless  sister,  who  seemed  to  spoil  good  clothing, 
as  by  magic  fatality ;  and  while  she  half  regretted 
v  2 


180  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

the  generous  impulse  which,  had  led  her  to  trust  one 
who  did  not  know  how  to  be  trustworthy — where 
frocks  and  bonnets,  &c.,  were  concerned — she  con- 
gratulated herself  on  her  own  advance  in  generosity 
and  self-  denial !  So  the  sisterly  kindness  was 
weighed  against  the  worldly  scheming,  and  on  the 
whole  Bertha  came  to  the  satisfactory  conclusion 
that  her  conduct  was  not  only  creditable,  but  highly 
praiseworthy,  and  accordingly  she  bestowed  on  her- 
self all  the  plaudits  which  she  was  convinced  she 
deserved. 

Her  solitude  was  invaded  by  her  aunt,  who  had 
been  pleased  to  note  the  energy  and  good- will  with 
which  Bertha  assisted  Helen;  and  Eric  too,  who 
had  been  quite  alive  to  the  emergencies  of  the 
morning,  and  had  witnessed  besides  some  of  Bertha's 
clever  contrivances  for  the  benefit  of  her  sister, 
was  charmed  at  the  ready  kindness,  and  unselfish 
energy  of  his  beautiful  cousin,  and  he  was  ready 
to  blame  himself  for  having  formed  an  unjust  esti- 
mate of  her  character,  which  seemed  to  him  at  that 
moment  all  that  was  lovely  and  lovable  in  woman- 
hood. 

Lady  Campbell  came  now  to  beg  Bertha  to  lie 
down;  for  though  feeling  quite  convalescent,  she 
was  not  very  strong,  and  the  care  of  her  had  become 
a  family  habit.  It  was  getting  dusk,  and  Bertha 
immediately  complied,  while  her  aunt  drew  up  her 
chair  to  the  fire,  and  after  some  trivial  observations, 


HARROT*   COURT.  181 

asked  her  if  she  too  would  like  to  pay  a  visit  in  a 
little  time. 

"  It  would  depend  upon  the  persons  or  place  to  be 
visited,  Aunt  Campbell !"  replied  Bertha  prudently; 
she  was  thinking  all  the  while  of  Harrop  Court,  and 
hoping  that  ere  the  spring  had  brightened  into 
summer,  she  would  be  fully  acquainted  with  its 
inhabitants. 

Lady  Campbell  smiled  at  her  niece's  guarded 
reply ;  but  she  felt  rather  annoyed  at  the  revelation 
of  tact  and  caution  in  one  so  young.  She  made  no 
remark,  however ;  but  answered  that  she  had  been 
talking  that  morning  with  Mrs.  Lillingstone  about 
her  London  journey  and  her  subsequent  icturn  to 
Scotland,  and  that  they  had  arranged  for  Bertha 
and  Mildred  to  accompany  her  and  their  cousins 
to  Strathallan,  on  a  visit  of  some  months'  duration. 

Surely  Bertha's  star  was  in  the  ascendant ;  she 
would  be  ready  for  Strathallan  in  the  middle  of 
April,  and,  in  the  interim,  there  would  be  abundant 
time  to  cultivate  personally  the  Harrop  Court  in- 
terests. Of  course  her  aunt's  proposition  delighted 
her  extremely,  and  she  thanked  her  so  affectionately, 
and  with  so  much  earnestness  and  grace,  that  Lady 
Campbell,  like  her  son,  was  deluded  into  the  belief 
that  she  had  uncharitably  misapprehended  some  points 
in  her  niece's  character.  Milly  was  enchanted.  To 
go  to  Scotland ;  to  see  the  mountains  of  which  the 
hills  round  Oldminster  were  faint  foreshadowings ;  to 


182  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

behold  the  Trossachs  and  the  Pass  of  Glencoe  with 
her  own  bodily  eyes  ;  to  sail  on  Loch  Katrine ;  to  live 
in  the  Highlands,  and  in  a  castle  too  ;  and  to  gaze, 
day  after  day,  on  the  grandeur  of  the  ocean  as  it 
reveals  itself  on  that  wild,  northern  shore ! — could 
there  be  a  more  glorious  concatenation  of  agreeables  ? 
And  yet,  in  perfect  sincerity,  Milly  urged  Helen's 
superior  claim,  till  Janet  assured  her  that  if  she 
succeeded  in  effecting  an  exchange,  she  should  take 
it  as  a  positive  unkindness  to  herself;  and  so  the 
arrangement  was  concluded,  and  the  day  after  the 
dinner-party  Lady  Campbell  and  Eric  departed  for 
London,  leaving  Janet  to  share  the  studies  and  occu- 
pations of  her  cousins  at  Oidminster. 

Helen  and  Kate  returned  from  Harrop  Court  late 
on  the  Saturday  evening.  They  had  enjoyed  them- 
selves extremely ;  Helen  especially  was  enthusiastic 
about  the  comforts  and  delights  of  Lady  Harrop's 
establishment,  and  she  informed  Bertha,  to  her  great 
satisfaction,  that  there  had  been  other  guests,  and 
*  that  she  thought  some  of  them  would  certainly  visit 
Oldminstor,  and  improve  the  acquaintance  so  happily 
begun.  Katty  testified  to  Lady  Harrop' s  great  kind- 
ness and  worth,  and,  what  was  quite  as  appreciable, 
to  the  safe  return  of  Bertha's  bonnet.  But,  alas ! — 
it  was  the  one  bitter  drop  in  the  pleasant  cup — the 
lace  sleeves  were  torn,  and.  Bertha's  choicest  pocket- 
handkerchief,  which  she  had  also  lent  her  sister, 
w^as  missing  !  All  day  on  Sunday  she  mourned  her 


HARROP   COURT.  183 

loss  ;  but  Monday  was  a  busy  day,  for  Tuesday  was 
the  day  of  the  party  ;  and  on  Wednesday  morning 
Lady  Campbell  and  Eric  bade  Oldminster  farewell 
for  a  season.  Bertha  resolved  to  cultivate  Janet  in 
their  absence. 


184  THE   LILLlNGSTONEa 


CHAPTER  XIY. 

THE   CTJHATE. 

**  The  summer  is  coming,  on  soft  winds  borne ; 
Ye  may  press  the  grape,  ye  may  bind  the  corn*. 
For  me, — I  depart  to  a  brighter  shore, — 
Ye  are  marked  by  care,  ye  are  mine  no  more : 
I  go  where  the  loved  who  have  left  you  dwell, 
Where  the  flowers  are  not  death's.     Fare  ye  well — farewell !  * 

So  read  Helen  Lillingstone  to  her  mother  and  Katty 
one  sweet  May  afternoon,  while  the  children  were 
playing  in  the  garden,  and  the  birds  were  singing  in 
the  blossom-laden  boughs,  and  the  scent  of  the  lilac 
and  the  hawthorn  came  with  every  balmy  breeze 
through  the  open  windows  of  the  drawing-room. 
Helen's  first  visit  to  Harrop  Court  had  been  but  the 
prelude  to  others;  twice,  since  she  went  thither, 
arrayed  in  Bertha's  bonnet  and  Bertha's  lace,  had 
she  been  domesticated  in  the  circle  of  Sir  John  and 
Lady  Harrop,  and  on  the  latter  occasion  she  had 
remained  their  guest  for  nearly  five  weeks. 

She  had  returned  from  this  visit  only  on  the  pre- 
ceding day,  and  both  Katty  and  her  mother  fancied 


THE   CURATE.  185 

that  she  was  graver,  more  thoughtful,  and  even  . 
sadder,  than  they  had  ever  seen  her  hefore.  She 
gave  no  detailed  account  of  the  proceedings  at 
Harrop  Court ;  she  had  little  to  say  respecting  the 
guests,  though  they  had  been  numerous  and  distin- 
guished ;  and  she  did  not  even  descant  in  poetical 
phrases  on  the  romantic  beauties  of  the  park,  and 
of  the  country  round  about  Harrop,  as  she  had  done 
on  her  return  from  her  two  former  visits. 

"  She  is  evidently  out  of  spirits,"  said  Mrs. 
Lillingstone.  "  Poor  girl,  she  feels  the  change 
from  the  luxuries  and  pleasures  of  Harrop  Court 
to  her  dull,  humble  home.  It  makes  her  regret 
more  keenly  the  circumstances  that  have  deprived 
her  of  her  rightful  privileges  and  position.  At 
her  age  reverses  are  so  hard  to  bear,  and  contrasts 
are  so  painful !  And  then  Bertha  and  Milly  being 
away  makes  the  house  so  much  duller,  and  I  dare 
say  the  children  tease  her ;  Alice  was  tormenting 
her  for  a  music  lesson  all  this  morning !  " 

Katty  saw  plainly  enough  that  Helen  was  moody, 
if  not  miserable,  and  she  waited  in  some  suspense  to 
hear  the  denouement  which  would  be  sure  to  ensue ; 
for  reserve  and  taciturnity  were  so  alien  to  her 
sister's  nature,  that  she  knew  they  could  not  long 
be  maintained.  In  the  afternoon,  Helen,  who  had 
been  sitting  alone  in  her  room  for  some  time,  came 
into  the  drawing-room,  and  finding  there  Mrs.  Lil- 
lingstone busy  with  her  knitting,  and  Katty  hard  at 


186  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

,  work  on  Alfred's  new  shirts,  volunteered  to  read 
aloud.  Her  proposition  was  received  with  favour, 
and  she  drew  from  her  pocket  a  volume  of  Mrs. 
Hemans'  poems,  and  commenced  reading  forthwith. 
Katty  always  found  it  a  treat  to  listen  to  Helen's 
poetical  readings,  and  on  this  occasion  she  was  more 
than  ever  disposed  to  admire  the  pathos,  the  tender- 
ness, and  the  perfect  modulations  of  her  sister's  voice. 
The  last  piece  she  chose  was  "  The  Yoice  of 
Spring,"  and  when  she  finished  the  closing  stanzas 
the  eyes  of  her  hearers  were  well-nigh  dewy  as  her 
own.  They  rememhered  the  fair  May  evening,  two 
years  ago,  when  death  came  an  unhidden  guest  to 
their  threshold.  Katty  thought  only  of  her  father, 
as  she  remembered  him  in  the  latter  years  of  his 
life — grave,  mournful,  and  silent;  but  the  mother 
went  back  to  an  earlier  day,  when  her  children 
were  young,  when  she  had  a  babe  in  her  arms,  and 
when  the  master  of  beautiful,  stately  Lillingstone 
was  blythe  and  radiant  in  his  noble,  manly  beauty ; 
and  she  wondered  not  that  Helen's  voice  quivered  as 
she  read  in  low  and  earnest  tones  : — 

"  But  ye ! — ye  are  changed  since  ye  met  me  last ! 
There  is  something  bright  from  your  features  pass'd ! 
There  is  that  come  over  your  brow  and  eye, 
Which  speaks  of  a  world  where  the  flowers  must  die  I 
Ye  smile  !  but  your  smile  hath  a  dimness  yet — 
Oh !  what  have  ye  look'd  on  since  last  we  met  ? 

"  Ye  are  changed,  ye  are  changed ! — and  I  see  not  here, 
All  whom  I  saw  in  the  vanish'd  year 


THE   CURATE.  187 

There  were  graceful  heads,  with  their  ringlets  bright, 
Which  toss'd  in  the  breeze  with  a  play  of  light, 
There  were  eyes,  in  whose  glistening  laughter  lay 
No  faint  remembrance  of  dull  decay ! 

ft  There  were  steps  that  flew  o'er  the  cowslip's  head, 
As  if  for  a  banquet  all  earth  were  spread  ; 
There  were  voices  that  rang  thro'  the  sapphire  sky, 
And  had  not  sound  of  mortality. 

Are  they  gone?  is  their  mirth  from  the  mountains  pass'd? 
— Ye  have  look'd  on  death  since  ye  met  me  last ! " 

And  when  the  final  stanza  was  concluded,  Mrs. 
Lillingstone' s  tears  were  falling  like  rain.  Her 
heart  was  with  the  past — the  beautiful,  joyous, 
long-faded  past  of  her  early  married  life ;  and  the 
latter  years  of  her  sojourn  at  Lillingstone — her 
cares  and  perplexities — the  change  that  had  come 
over  her  husband's  once  bright  and  loving  nature — 
the  gloom  and  the  fears  that  distracted  the  last 
months  of  his  life — his  sudden  death — the  parting 
from  the  beloved  home  of  bridal  days,  and  the 
coming,  in  the  dull,  grey  October  evening,  to  her 
new  residence  at  Oldminster, — seemed  like  the 
troubled  changes  of  a  painful  dream !  When  she 
had  wiped  away  the  tears  she  looked  up  again,  and 
she  was  alone  with  Helen ;  Katty  had  been  called 
away  by  Sarah. 

Mrs.  Lillingstone  watched  Helen  anxiously ;  there 
was  something  beyond  pensive  regret,  something 
more  than  poetic  sadness  in  the  downcast,  abstracted 
gaze  of  her  dark,  thoughtful  eyes.  She  was  sitting 


188  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

quite  still,  her  head  rather  bent,  her  hands  folded  in 
her  lap,  and  her  book  sliding  away  on  to  the  floor. 
One  great  thought  and  care  evidently  possessed 
her  mind ;  and,  when  her  mother  spoke,  in  her 
lowest  and  gentlest  tones,  she  started  and  let  fall 
the  little  volume  from  which  she  had  been  reading. 
Then  she  hastily  picked  it  up,  and,  meeting  her 
mother's  glance,  coloured  violently. 

"Helen,  my  child!  what  is  it?  Has  any  one 
been  vexing  you  at  Harrop  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Lilling- 
stone,  tenderly. 

To  her  extreme  consternation  Helen  burst  into 
tears,  and  made  no  reply.  "  What  is  amiss,  dearest?  " 
asked  the  mother  again,  trembling  with  anxiety,  and 
hovering  herself  on  the  verge  of  hysterical  weeping. 

But  Helen  did  not  answer;  she  only  cried  on, 
sometimes  bitterly,  sometimes  quietly,  while  her 
mother  in  vain  strove  to  soothe  her  grief,  and  begged 
her  to  disclose  its  cause. 

"I  am  not  sorry,  mamma — only — "  and  again 
there  was  a  burst  of  such  weeping,  that  Mrs  Lilling- 
stone  could  only  wipe  away  her  daughter's  tears, 
and  smooth  her  ruffled  ringlets,  and  entreat  her  to  be 
comforted ;  but  it  was  a  real  relief  when  Katty  came 
back,  and  entered  at  once  into  her  anxieties,  and 
besought  Helen  to  open  her  heart  to  them. 

At  length  Helen  grew  calmer,  and  her  voice  was 
no  longer  broken  by  sobs;  and  then,  after  much 
hesitation  and  pressing,  she  began  her  story.  Her 


THE    CURATE.  189 

first  words  were  few,  but  very  much  to  the  purpose 
— "  Mamma !  I  am  engaged ! " 

Katty  could  scarcely  restrain  an  exclamation  of 
wonder.  Mrs.  Lillingstone  looked  aghast.  That  her 
daughter  had  done  something  dreadfully  imprudent 
she  felt  assured,  and  she  had  some  difficulty  in 
faltering  out,  "Engaged,  Helen!  and  without  your 
mother's  sanction!  Katty,  did  you  expect  this?" 

"  Indeed  I  did  not !"  replied  Katty,  still  doubting 
the  evidence  of  her  own  ears.  "  I  had  no  idea  that 
Helen  even  cared  for  any  one ;  and  I  cannot  think 
to  whom  she  is  engaged !" 

Katty  felt  a  little  hurt  at  Helen's  secresy/  They 
had  shared  the  same  chamber  on  the  previous 
evening,  and  it  would  have  been  but  natural  to 
bestow  on  her  sister,  so  little  her  senior,  this  con- 
fidence which  is  above  all  other  confidences. 

"  I  am  sure,  mamma,  I  could  not  help  it,"  rejoined 
Helen,  in  a  most  larmoyantc  tone — she  was  evidently 
prepared  for  heroics,  and  quite  ready  to  enact  the 
rdle  of  a  damsel  persecuted  for  true  love's  sake ! 

"Let  us  hear  all  about  it ! "  said  Katty,  recovering 
her  good-humour.  "But,  Helen  dear!  you  should 
have  waited ;  it  vexes  mamma  that  you  did  not  ask 
her  before  you  made  it  an  engagement." 

"  You  have  never  loved,  Katty ! "  said  Helen,  with 
mild  reproach,  and  an  air  of  superior  compassion. 
Katty  could  say  nothing  to  this ;  she  never  had — not, 
at  least,  in  the  sense  in  which  Helen  intended  it ;  so 


190  THE  LILLINGSTONES. 

she  was  fain  to  be  silent,  and  wonder  whether  love 
and  imprudence  were  always  identical. 

Helen  continued,  "Do  you  remember  that  I 
spoke  to  you  a  little  while  ago  of  the  clergyman  at 
Harrop?" 

"  Yes ;  you  did  not  like  him.  You  said  he  was  a 
Puseyite,  "  replied  Katty. 

"Yes;  and  so  he  is!  or  a  Geologist — I  forget 
which. 

"  The  two  are  very  dissimilar,"  said  Katty,  a  little 
dryly. 

"Well!  it  does  not  matter  what  he  is;  but  Sir 
John  cannot  bear  him,  and  though  the  living  is  in 
his  gift,  he  cannot  turn  him  out,  and  put  some  one 
he  likes  better  in  his  place.  Is  it  not  shameful  ?" 

"I  have  no  doubt  it  is  exasperating,"  replied 
Katty. 

"Yery!  All  last  summer  and  winter,  Sir  John 
and  Lady  Harrop  were  obliged  to  go  to  Specleton  to 
church,  seven  miles  there  and  seven  back,  and  a 
very  trying  road  for  the  horses  too !" 

"But,  Helen  dear,  what  has  this  heretical  clergy- 
man to  do  with  your  engagement?"  asked  Katty, 
quite  puzzled  to  know  in  what  way  an  elderly, 
obnoxious,  and  married  vicar  of  Harrop  could  pos- 
sibly affect  her  sister's  happiness. 

"Wait  a  little,  I  am  coming  to  my  own  part  of 
the  story.  Last  January,  when  the  people  were 
hating  him  worse  than  ever,  he  fell  into  rather  bad 


THE   CURATE.  191 

health,  and  Sir  John  persuaded  him  to  go  to  Italy, 
promising  to  find  a  competent  clergyman  to  act  as 
curate  in  his  absence.  So  he  went,  and  the  curate 
chosen  was  the  Reverend  Arthur  Lascelles,  a  person 
of  great  talent  and  good  family.  He  lived  all  by 
himself  in  that  great  rambling  vicarage,  and  it 
followed  very  naturally  that  Lady  Harrop,  who 
likes  him  very  much,  asked  him  frequently  to  the 
Court.  I  saw  him  once  or  twice  when  I  was 
there  in  March ;  but  this  time  I  found  him  nearly 
living  in  the  house,  and  the  GKEATEST  FAVOUKITE  with 
Sir  John,  as  well  as  with  Lady  Harrop.  Well, 
somehow  we  became  intimate.  All  the  young  ladies 
liked  him ;  but  he  brought  me  chants  and  church- 
music,  and  he  said  there  were  some  airs  in  "The 
Messiah"  that  would  just  suit  my  voice,  and  I 
practised  them  with  him  and  for  him — and  really, 
mamma,  I  don't  know  how  it  was — I  never  meant 
to  care  for  him  ;  but  one  day  I  found  out  that  I  did, 
and  the  same  day  he  told  me  that  he  cared  for  me ; 
and  all  at  once  I  felt  that  if  anything  or  anybody 
came  between  us  I  should  never  be  happy  any 
more ! 

"  I  could  see  how  deeply  he  loved  me ;  and  could 
I  be  so  cruel  to  him  and  to  myself  to  torment  him 
by  uncertainty  ?  It  was  when  we  were  all  out 
walking  in  the  village,  and  Lady  Harrop  and  Miss 
Darlington  were  gone  into  a  cottage,  and  one  or  two 
more  had  walked  on  quickly,  for  it  was  a  cool  day. 


192  THE   L1LLINGSTONES. 

while  we  had  strolled  into  the  lanes  to  look  for 
violets,  and  it  was  all  settled,  and  we  were  en- 
gaged." 

"Did  you  tell  Lady  Harrop?"  asked  Mrs.  Lil- 
iingstone.  "  But  I  need  not  inquire,  Helen;  for  if 
you  had  done  so,  she  would  have  spoken  to  me 
when  she  brought  you  home  yesterday." 

"  No,  mamma,"  returned  Helen,  uneasily.  "  We 
thought  it  best  to  be  silent  while  I  remained  at 
Harrop  Court.  Arthur  said  you  had  a  right  to  be 
the  first  person  consulted.  Eut  Lady  Harrop  sus- 
pected something,  and  that,  I  know,  was  why  she 
did  not  invite  me  to  extend  my  visit ;  for  there  is 
to  be  a  grand  pic-nic  in  a  fortnight  to  Shreck- 
enham  Abbey,  and  she  knew  I  counted  upon  going. 
And  yesterday,  when  we  were  driving  home,  she 
mentioned  the  subject,  and  begged  me,  if  anything 
had  passed  between  us,  to  be  quite  explicit  with 
you,  mamma ;  and  I  said  I  would ;  but  I  did  not 
confess  anything  to  her." 

"  I  wish  you  had,  my  dear.  The  attachment  was 
formed  under  Lady  Harrop 's  roof,  and  I  think  frank- 
ness was  due  to  her." 

Helen  was  silent.  She  did  not  tell  her  mother 
how  deprccatingly  Lady  Harrop  had  stated  her  sus- 
picions :  the  fact  being  that  her  ladyship  blamed 
herself  exceedingly  for  having  brought  the  young 
people  together,  and  allowed  them  so  many  oppor- 
tunities for  love-making,  and  what  Sir  John,  in  hia 


THE   CUKATE,  193 

plain  north  country  fashion,  called  philandering. 
She  admired  her  curate  extremely.  He  was  a  good 
young  man,  of  moderate  views  and  high  classical 
attainments,  of  refined  tastes  and  fascinating  man- 
ners, and  passionately  fond  of  music,  and  poetry, 
and  the  fine  arts  in  general.  Moreover,  his  family 
was  not  at  all  inferior  to  Helen's,  and  her  ladyship 
privately  admitted  to  herself,  rather  better  than  the 
Harrops ;  hut  then — of  course  there  was  a  "  lut"  and 
a  very  serious  one,  too,  or  she  would  never  have 
sent  her  favourite  Helen  back  to  Oldminster,  with 
a  delightful  pic-nic  in  prospect — Arthur  Lascelles 
was  as  poor  as  curates  proverbially  are.  He  was 
the  younger  son  of  a  younger  son,  who  had  been 
unfortunate,  and  whose  father  was  a  spendthrift. 
And  poor  Arthur  had  chosen  the  Church,  as 
the  profession  into  which  he  could  scramble  with 
the  least  possible  expenditure.  How  he  scrambled 
through  his  university  terms,  poor  fellow,  no  one 
save  himself — and  perhaps  his  scout,  who  despised 
him  accordingly — had  the  remotest  idea.  No  one 
ever  imagined  that  the  well-born,  handsome  under- 
graduate, who  could  never  be  seduced  into  the 
faintest  approach  to  temporary  "fastness,"  sate  fire- 
less  and  shivering  in  his  rooms  through  the  greater 
part  of  the  Michaelmas  and  Lent  terms ;  and  very 
few  suspected  the  reason  why  he  invariably  refused 
all  invitations,  even  from  reading  men,  because  he 
could  not  possibly  ask  them  in  return  to  his  own  table. 


194  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

In  his  first  year  he  gained  a  scholarship,  on  which 
he  afterwards  mainly  depended,  for  remittances  from 
home  became  smaller  and  less  frequent,  till  at 
length,  and  long  before  he  went  up  for  his  E.A. 
degree,  they  ceased  entirely.  He  was  ordained  to  a 
curacy  near  London,  and  there  he  worked  on,  hope- 
less of  promotion,  because  deficient  in  patronage,  till 
Sir  John  Harrop  accidentally  crossed  his  path,  ad- 
mired his  sermons,  and  liked  his  society,  and  offered 
him  the  curacy  of  Harrop  during  the  absence  of  the 
obnoxious  vicar. 

The  stipend  was  handsome,  far  exceeding  the 
ordinary  pittance  that  falls  to  the  share  of  appren- 
tices to  the  clerical  calling ;  and  in  the  society  of 
Harrop  Court  he  seemed  to  have  regained  the  foot- 
ing which  was  his  right  by  birth,  but  which  adverse 
circumstances  had  hitherto  denied  him. 

Sanguine  and  happy,  and  luxuriating  in  the 
atmosphere  of  rank,  and  refinement,  and  wealth,  in 
which  he  found  himself,  as  it  were,  at  home,  he  met 
Helen  Lillingstone  ;  was  charmed  by  her  grace  and 
beauty,  delighted  with  her  musical  and  poetic  tastes, 
and  finally  taken  captive  by  discovering  the  extra- 
ordinary congeniality  that  existed  between  them  in 
tendencies  and  feelings.  Poor,  romantic  Helen ! 
she  needed  a  sober-minded  practical  husband  to 
restrain  her  flights  of  fancy,  and  to  subdue  into 
ardour  her  impetuosity,  and  into  deep  and  settled 
purposes  her  wild  undisciplined  impulses  ;  and 


THE   CURAIE.  195 

behold !  the  youth  to  whom  she  was  pledged,  was 
all  theory,  ideality,  and  poetry.  Lady  Harrop 
trembled  at  what  her  own  imprudence  might  have 
caused  when  she  beheld  Mr.  Lascelles  hanging  over 
Helen's  chair,  whispering  sweet  things,  and  quoting 
his  favourite  authors,  while  Helen's  heightened 
colour  and  bashful  gaze  betrayed  at  once  the  nature 
of  their  conversation,  and  her  own  appreciation  of 
its  merits. 

Of  all  this  Mrs.  Lillingstone  was  of  course  igno- 
rant as  yet ;  but  when  she  had  fully  digested  the 
unpalatable  fact  that  her  daughter  had  engaged 
herself  without  her  sanction,  she  inquired  whether 
Mr.  Lascelles  was  in  a  position  to  marry. 

Helen  coloured,  and  tormented  the  trimming  of 
her  dress,  while  she  replied,  * l  Well,  mamma ! 
Arthur  was  quite  open  about  money-matters,  though, 
of  course,  I  had  not  much  to  say  on  the  subject.  I 
could  not  be  mercenary,  you  know ;  but  he  did  say 
that  his  present  position,  though  extremely  pleasant, 
and  of  its  kind  lucrative,  was  by  no  means  secure  ; 
for  the  vicar  might  return  any  day  from  Salerno,  or 
Sorrento,  or  somewhere,  and  dismiss  him  forthwith. 
So  he  is  going  to  speak  to  Sir  John  about  it,  and 
perhaps  he  will  get  him  some  nice  little  living,  or  a 
settled  curacy  where  the  duties  are  not  too  toilsome, 
and  the  emolument  handsome ;  so  then,  you  know, 
mamma  dear,  we  could  be  married  at  once !  I  don't 
want  to  be  rich,  I  had  rather  be  happy ;  and  I  shall 
o  2 


196  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

be  happier  with.  Arthur  in  a  cottage  on  a  hundred  a 
year,  than  I  should  he  with  any  one  else  in  a  man- 
sion, or  with  thousands  at  niy  disposal." 

Mrs.  Lillingstone  sighed;  hut  she  folded  her 
young  daughter  in  her  arms,  and  kissed  the  blush- 
ing cheeks  and  the  eloquent  lips,  and  she  thought  of 
the  time  when  she  too  was  nineteen,  and  wooed  by 
the  handsome  young  heir  of  Lillingstone,  whose 
possessions  were  the  last  thing  she  cared  about,  and 
whom  she  would  gladly  have  wedded  had  he  been 
a  poor  curate  with,  a  pitiful  £100  per  annum,  and 
no  patronage.  In  looks  and  feeling  Helen  Lil- 
lingstone was  her  mother's  own  daughter,  and  the 
romance  of  her  disposition  was  decidedly  an  in- 
heritance. 

" And  when  is  your  Arthur  coming?"  asked 
Mrs.  Lillingstone,  fondly,  still  thinking  of  the  days 
that  were  no  more." 

"  To-morrow,"  whispered  Helen,  clinging  still 
closer  to  her  mother.  "  Oh,  thank  you,  mamma, 
for  feeling  with  me  !  Now  I  have  told  you,  all  is 
light;  for  I  know  you  will  love  him  and  under- 
stand him."  And  Helen  sat  down  to  tea  with  her 
face  brighter  and  sunnier  than  ever ;  and  told  such 
interesting  tales  of  Harrop  Court,  all  interwoven 
with  "Arthur,"  that  her  listeners  almost  forgot 
that  it  was  necessary  to  replenish  their  cups  and 
butter  their  bread. 

Then  Alfred  came  in  from  school,  and  he  had  to 


THE   CURATE.  197 

hear  the  news,  which  he  appeared  not  to  relish  at 
first,  till  he  thoroughly  understood  that  the  young 
man  was  a  veritable  Lascelles,  descended  in  a 
straight  line  from  two  of  the  best  families  in 
England.  And  then  he  told  Helen  it  might  do 
in  five  or  six  years'  time,  when  he  had  reason- 
able prospects;  but  that  meanwhile  she  would 
probably  lose  better  chances  than  she  had  yet 
dreamed  of.  And  Helen  replied  with  spirit,  that 
she  hated  to  hear  marriage  discussed  in  that  worldly 
style,  and  probable  engagements  spoken  of  as 
"  chances !"  Alfred  laughed  at  her  indignant  tone, 
and  walked  away,  singing,  with  provoking  dis- 
tinctness : — 

"Now  all  ye  lovers  that  faithful  prove, 

The  sun  shines  fair  on  Carlisle  wall, 
Pray  for  their  souls  who  died  of  love, 
For  love  shall  still  be  lord  of  all !» 


198  THE   LILLINGSTONE8. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

LADY   HAHItOP's   NOTIONS. 

ON  the  morrow,  punctual  as  the  sun,  came  the  Rev. 
Arthur  Lascelles,  and  two  hours  afterwards  came 
Lady  Harrop,  filled  with  dismay,  and  almost  sinking 
tinder  the  weight  of  her  own  self-accusations.  Great, 
therefore,  was  her  relief  when  she  found  Helen  and 
her  mother  hoth  ready  to  be  congratulated,  and  in 
no  wise  inclined  to  lay  to  her  charge  the  impru- 
dence of  which,  in  her  secret  soul,  she  acknowledged 
herself  guilty ;  and  no  less  was  her  surprise  that 
Mrs.  Lillingstone  should  so  soon  have  yielded  to  the 
representations  and  entreaties  of  the  young  people, 
who  sadly  needed  a  steady  head  to  think  and  to  act 
for  them.  But  thankful  as  she  was  to  escape  the 
expressed  or  implied  reproaches  of  a  justly  alarmed 
parent,  Lady  Harrop  could  not  quite  silence  her 
conscience,  "For,"  argued  she,  "let  them  say  what 
they  will,  it  is  an  exceedingly  had  match  for  the 
girl ;  and  such  as  it  is,  I  feel  I  have  had  a  hand  in 
making  it." 


LADY   HARROW'S   NOTIONS.  199 

So  she  felt  it  her  duty  to  set  before  Mrs.  Lilling- 
stone  and  Katty — tlie  lovers  were  in  the  garden, 
planning  a  rectory  covered  with  roses  and  clematis — 
the  disadvantages  of  an  unconditional  and  indefinite 
engagement,  which  must  terminate  either  in  an 
imprudent  marriage,  or  in  no  marriage  at  all. 

"My  dear  Lady  Harrop,"  said  Mrs.  Lillingstone, 
piteously,  "  surely  you  will  not  take  part  against 
my  poor  child !  " 

"Ko,  no,  indeed! "  returned  Lady  Harrop,  warmly ; 
"it  is  because  I  care  so  much  about  Helen  that  I 
give  vent  to  my  solicitude  in  words  which  are 
perhaps  rather  too  sweeping.  I  admire  and  esteem 
Mr.  Lascelles  more  than  I  can  express,  and  I  need 
not  say  how  truly  I  love  your  daughter,  and  yet  I 
cannot  wish  to  see  them  united.  If  it  were  Katty, 
I  should  only  think  she  might  do  better,  and  say 
nothing  about  it ;  and  if  it  were  that  prudent  little 
Bertha,  I  should  be  inclined  to  congratulate  Arthur 
on  the  acquisition  of  a  thoroughly  practical  wife. 
As  it  is,  Helen  and  he  are  only  too  much  alike ;  they 
expect  to  live  like  birds  in  a  nest,  or  like  butterflies 
in  a  flower-garden;  they  have  not  the  remotest  idea 
of  those  unrom  antic,  but  necessary,  items  in  wedded 
life,  without  which  all  the  poetry  and  refinement 
in  the  world  must  wither  away,  for  want  of  sub- 
stantial nourishment  at  the  root.  Helen's  vicarage 
or  rectory,  when  it  comes,  must  have  a  kitchen  as 
well  as  a  drawing-room;  and  she  must  learn  to 


200  THE   LILL1NGSTONES. 

consider  the  contents  of  her  larder,  as  well  as  of  her 
book-case.  And  all  this  is  foreign  to  her  nature,  and 
disqualifies  her  for  marriage  with  a  poor  gentleman 
like  Arthur  Lascelles." 

"But  they  will  he  content  with  a  very  modest 
establishment.  I  know  Helen  is  rather  too  visionary, 
too  apt  to  overlook  the  common  requirements  of 
every-day  life,  but  it  strikes  me  that  her  marriage, 
and  even  her  engagement,  will  render  her  more 
domesticated : — it  is  true  that  if  she  were  contem- 
plating a  union  with  a  man  of  wealth,  like  Sii 
John,  or  like  my  dear  husband  in  our  palmy  Lil- 
lingstone  days,  there  would  be  no  necessity  for 
domestication." 

"Pardon  me!"  interrupted  Lady  Harrop,  "I 
must  differ  from  you  there.  I  think  eveiy  girl, 
every  woman,  ought  to  be  thoroughly  domesticated. 
Depend  upon  it,  an  undomesticated  woman  can  never 
make  her  husband  happy,  however  elevated  the 
sphere  in  which  she  moves." 

"  You  astonish  me  !  My  dear  Lady  Harrop,  with 
your  very  efficient  housekeeper,  and  your  excellent 
staff  of  servants,  where  would  be  the  utility  of  your 
spending  your  time  in  cooking,  or  clear-starching, 
or  even  in  mending  your  own  stockings  ?  " 

"There  would  be  none.  I  believe  that  I  best 
fuliil  my  duty  in  that  state  of  life  to  which  it  hath 
pleased  God  to  call  me,  by  paying  people  to  send  up 
my  dinners  and  iron  my  muslins ;  I  can  afford  it, 


LADY   HARROP'S   NOTIONS.  201 

and  I  find  abundant  occupation  in  other  duties, 
which  I  cannot  and  may  not  pay  servants  to  per- 
form. But  notwithstanding  this,  I  hope  I  am  a 
really  domesticated  woman.  I  flatter  myself  Sir 
John  thinks  so." 

Mrs.  Lillingstone  looked  puzzled. 

"  Do  you  know,"  continued  Lady  Harrop,  "that 
I  think  the  word  domesticated  is  very  much  mis- 
apprehended? Shall  I  give  you  my  own  view  of 
the  subject?" 

"Pray  do!  I  never  gave  the  matter  much  thought 
myself;  and  there  is  Katty,  eager  to  improve  her 
mind.  » 

""Well,  then;  I  hold  that  domestication,  though 
an  absolute  term,  admits  of  diverse  interpreta- 
tions. If  I  were  asked  '  What  is  domestication  ? '  I 
should  reply,  '  It  is  that  quality,  or  combination  of 
qualities  that  enables  a  woman  to  make  her  home 
a  little  heaven  of  comfort,  neatness,  order,  and  cheer- 
fulness.' I  have  heard  girls  called  domesticated 
who  ought  to  have  been  designated  mere  drudges. 
It  is  very  seldom  that  an  educated  woman  proves 
her  title  to  domestication  by  scrubbing  floors,  and 
rubbing  candlesticks,  and  turning  the  house  out  of 
the  windows  at  stated  periods.  Some  women  enjoy 
these  lustrations  as  much  as  Helen  and  other 
young  ladies  of  similar  temperament  enjoy  a  new 
poem.  They  glory  in  the  taking  up  of  carpets  and 
the  scouring  of  paint ;  they  rejoice  in  washing-day 


202  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

and  ironing-day;  and  they  feel  proud  and  happy 
women  when  they  have  spent  six  or  eight  hours 
in  culinary  preparation.  And  yet,  I  think  the 
adjective,  domesticated,  Misapplied  when  applied  to 
them.  They  have  the  genius  of  routing — nothing 
more ;  and  they  generally  fail  in  making  their 
husbands  happy,  while  their  unfortunate  daughters, 
if  their  tastes  are  dissimilar  to  their  mother's,  are 
compelled  to  something  like  involuntary  servitude, 
or  tempted  to  unbecoming  disputes." 

"Then  domestication  varies  according  to  our 
station  in  life  ?  "  said  Katharine.  "  But  are  not  some 
women  obligated,  as  Sarah  says,  to  scrub  and  scour, 
and  brew  and  bake,  whether  they  like  it  or  not  ?  " 

" Certainly;  when  any  species  of  work  becomes  a 
real  necessity,  it  becomes  also  a  duty ;  and,  as  such, 
must  not  be  set  aside.  I  was  not  however  referring 
to  such  cases,  but  to  others,  where  there  is  more  of 
choice  than  necessity  in  the  matter :  I  only  wanted 
to  say,  that  drudgery  and  domestication  are  not 
often  synonymous.  Don't  you  agree  with  me, 
Katty?" 

"Yes,  Lady  Harrop ;  but  I  was  wondering 
whether  I  might  call  myself  domesticated." 

"That  you  may,"  replied  her  mother,  affection- 
ately; "if,  as  Lady  Harrop  implies,  domestication 
is  the  spreading  around  one  a  bright,  genial  home 
atmosphere,  a  making  the  very  best  of  things 
for  comfort  and  for  refinement;  then,  my  Katty, 


LADY   HARROP'S   NOTIONS.  203 

I  am  sure  no  one  has  a  better  clain  to  the  distinc- 
tion." 

"And  I  am  quite  sure  of  it  too,"  said  Lady 
Harrop ;  and  she  bethought  herself  of  the  nice  light 
cake  of  Katty's  making,  and  her  instruction  of 
Walter  and  Alice,  and  her  pretty  economies  in  her 
own  dress,  her  ornamental  needle-work  on  her  little 
sister's  frock,  her  readings,  her  practisings,  and  her 
quiet  but  intense  appreciation  of  all  that  was  beau- 
tiful in  nature,  art,  or  literature !  Yes,  Katharine 
Lillingstone  was  the  very  type  and  model  of  a  do- 
mesticated Englishwoman.  Happy  the  man,  whether 
rich  or  poor,  peer  or  commoner,  who  should  some 
day  call  her  bone  of  his  bone,  and  flesh  of  his  flesh ! 

But  Lady  Han-op  did  not  know  half  Katty's  toils. 
She  did  not  know  how  much  dusting,  and  cooking, 
and  ironing  was  privately  performed  before  Mrs. 
Lillingstone  came  down  in  the  morning;  or  how 
many  little  cares  and  little  worries  devolved  upon 
that  bright-looking,  brave-hearted  girl,  who  sat  now 
in  her  simple,  lady- like  costume,  as  busy  and  skilful 
with  her  crochet-work  as  if  she  had  not  been 
stewing  rhubarb  and  making  pies  for  two  hours 
since  breakfast. 

Katty  never  talked  about  her  performances ;  and, 
dear  ladies,  believe  me,  such  performances  are  better 
not  talked  about.  If  you  like  to  do  a  little  amateur 
scrubbing  and  nibbing,  pray  do  it,  and  do  it  con 
amore;  I  am  not  the  woman  to  say  you  nay;  but 


204  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

don't  talk  about  it  all  the  afternoon  and  evening ; 
don't  tell  your  husband  how  dreadfully  busy  you 
have  been,  and  how  horribly  tired  you  are !  Don't 
give  him  a  catalogue  of  your  proceedings  since  he 
went  away  to  the  office,  or  to  the  warehouse ;  don't 
tell  him  how  many  beds  you  have  made,  how  many 
chambers  you  have  swept  and  dusted,  how  much 
suet  you  have  chopped,  and  how  many  of  his  collars 
and  shirt-fronts  you  have  starched  and  ironed — 
though,  by  the  way,  it  is  better  to  starch  one 
day,  and  iron  the  next.  Above  all,  don't  give  him 
the  history  of  that  unhappy  maid- of-all- work's 
impudence,  and  laziness,  and  disobedience,  and 
thoughtlessness,  and  dirtiness,  and  general  good-for- 
nothingness,  finishing  up  by  a  solemn  asseveration 
that  you  have  "been  on  your  feet"  ever  since 
breakfast-time ! 

Such  disclosures  never  answer ;  the  husband  has 
consignments,  and  bills  of  lading,  and  invoices,  and 
payments  falling  due,  and  all  the  wearisome  con- 
comitants of  "debit  and  credit"  on  his  mind.  Ever 
since  he  went  away  at  nine  o'clock,  he  has  been 
living  in  a  hard,  rough,  go-a-head,  work-a-day 
world,  of  which  you  have  no  knowledge,  lady  fair ! 
and  now  he  wants  rest,  he  wants  refreshment,  he 
wants  cheering  up,  and  your  small  talk  fidgets  a  ad 
wearies  him,  and  finally,  if  persevered  in,  makes  him 
angry  and  disgusted ;  and  if  he  be  not  a  very  good 
man,  he  will  probably  take  his  hat  and  seek  the 


LADY   HARROP'S   NOTIONS.  205 

recreation  he  so  sorely  needs  elsewhere ;  and  if  he 
be  not  good  at  all,  that  is,  not  Christian  at  all,  he 
may  seek  it  in  a  way  that  you,  and  everybody  else 
will  be  shocked  at.  Be  quite  sure  that  if  domestic 
peace,  and  joy,  and  comfort  be  not  your  continual 
aim  and  aspiration,  you  are  not  domesticated,  albeit 
you  are  great  in  pickles,  and  preserves,  and  raised 
pies,  and  skilful  in  the  uses  of  Grlenfield  starch ;  and 
albeit  you  rise  up  early,  and  late  take  rest,  and  eat 
the  bread  of  carefulness,  and  wage  incessant  war 
against  dust,  and  keep  your  windows  shining,  and 
your  door-step  immaculate. 

And  all  this  Lady  Harrop  contrived  to  say  in  a 
much  prettier  way  than  I  can  say  it;  but  at  last 
they  came  round  again  to  the  question  really  under 
consideration — what  was  to  be  the  nature  of  Miss 
Helen's  domestication  before  she  could  be  qualified 
to  become  the  wife  of  a  poor  gentleman  ? 

"What  can  she  do?  what  does  she  do?"  asked 
Lady  Harrop. 

Mrs.  Lillingstone  began  to  reflect.  She  was  sure 
that  Helen  did  something,  but  at  that  moment  she 
really  could  not  tax  her  memory  with  any  detail  of 
her  second  daughter's  housewifely  propensities.  She 
remembered  distinctly  that  she  fed  her  canary, 
though  she  generally  deputed  the  cleaning  of  his 
cage  to  Walter  or  to  Milly ;  that  she  watered  the 
green-house  plants  quite  regularly,  and  arranged  cut 
flowers  artistically;  that  she  was  very  clever  at  purse 


206  THE  L1LLINGSTONES. 

making,  and  crochet,  and  talking,  and  had  once  made 
some  delicious  lemon  cheesecakes  from  the  receipt  of 
the  HaiTOp  Court  housekeeper,  on  condition  that 
some  one  else  would  squeeze  the  lemons,  and  achieve 
the  pastry,  and  attend  to  the  baking. 

Katty  knew  also  that,  occasionally,  she  drove 
Sarah  frantic  by  her  well-meant  endeavours  in  the 
culinary  department ;  and  that  sometimes,  on  such 
occasions,  the  kitchen  became  too  hot  to  hold  them 
both.  Mrs.  Lillingstone  said  at  last,  that  she  had 
no  doubt  that  Helen  would  now  set  herself  to  leam 
the  mysteries  of  housekeeping,  and  that  she  was 
sure  Katty,  and  Bertha  when  she  came  home,  would 
teach  her  everything. 

"And  what  are  the  young  people's  plans?  Of 
course  they  have  no  idea  of  marrying  till  Mr.  Las- 
celles  realises  a  suitable  and  permanent  income." 

"  No,  certainly  not.  But  my  poor  Helen  is  very 
humble  in  her  temporal  aspirations.  She  thinks 
she  could  be  happy  on  a  hundred  a  year." 

"I  am  quite  sure  she  could  not.  It  would  be 
poverty  to  a  person  like  Helen,  and  to  Arthur  posi- 
tive, unmistakable  penury ;  and  of  the  worst  kind, 
too,  for  a  clergyman  must  make  some  kind  of  ap- 
pearance, and  the  struggle  between  ways  and  means 
would  be  painful  and  incessant.  My  dear  friend, 
do  not  let  your  daughter  make  herself  so  wretched ; 
do  not  let  her  commit  such  an  act  of  injustice 
against  herself,  and  against  Mr.  Lascelles !  They 


LADY   HARKOP'S   NOTIONS.  207 

are  both  very  young ;  life,  humanly  speaking,  lies 
before  them ;  let  them  tarry  awhile,  till  Arthur 
has — let  me  see — say  three  hundred  a  year,  and  till 
Helen  has  some  idea  of  the  price  of  butcher's  meat, 
and  an  adequate  knowledge  of  the  true  value  of  a 
sovereign,  as  compared  with  her  bond  fide  income. 

And  then  Lady  Harrop  promised,  on  the  part  of 
Sir  John,  that  his  good  offices  in  the  way  of  patron- 
age should  not  be  wanting ;  and  after  dinner  she 
took  Helen  apart,  and  gave  her  certain  counsel, 
which  the  young  lady  conceived  to  be  dreadfully 
humdrum  after  the  morning's  love-making,  and 
quite  too  common-place  to  be  acted  on — for  the 
present,  at  least." 

"  And,  my  dear,"  said  the  kind-hearted  woman, 
in  conclusion,  "  though  you  will  probably  not  be 
married  for  two  or  three  years,  there  is  no  reason 
why  you  should  not  begin  to  make  your  little  pre- 
parations. "When  a  young  lady  is  going  to  marry  on 
a  small  income — and  especially  when  the  engagement 
is  protracted,  as  yours  must  be — if  she  be  wise,  she 
will  provide  herself  with  plenty  of  neatly-made, 
substantial  clothing.  If  I  were  you,  my  dear,  I 
should  take  a  pride  in  saying  that  my  trousseau  was 
all  the  work  of  my  own  hands ;  and  besides,  my 
love,  if  you  do  all  your  own  sewing,  you  can  afford 
to  spend  more  on  material." 

"How  dreadfully  matter-of-fact  Lady  Harrop  is," 
thought  Helen,  who  had  been  seven  weeks  in  making 


208  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

a  night-gown,  which  Bertha,  in  despair  of  getting  it 
out  of  the  way,  had  at  last  completed  herself. 

The  next  day  came  sundry  huge  packets  directed 
to  Miss  Helen  Lillingstone.  When  opened,  they 
were  found  to  contain  a  whole  piece  of  Irish  linen,  of 
excellent  make  and  tolerable  fineness ;  two  pieces  of 
Crewdson's  calico — one  of  heavier,  one  of  lighter 
texture — and  several  yards  of  muslin  and  cambric. 
Also  a  dozen  reels  of  Taylor's  best  sewing  cotton,  a 
plentiful  stock  of  good  Eedditch  needles,  a  new 
silver  thimble,  and  a  pair  of  cutting-out  scissors — 
"  presents  from  Lady  Harrop  to  a  betrothed  maiden." 

And  the  dismay,  the  regret,  and  the  secret  anger 
of  the  betrothed  maiden,  as  she  surveyed  the  goodly 
pile  of  raw  material,  which  she  was  expected  to 
manipulate  into  pretty,  useful  under-clothing,  was 
something  ludicrous  to  contemplate. 


STRATHALLAN.  209 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

STRATHALLAN. 

THE  waves  were  breaking  gloriously  on  the  shore  of 
Strathallan  Bay,  there  was  a  fresh  wind,  and  the 
tide  was  coming  in  rapidly.  Blue  was  the  sky 
above,  blue  was  the  restless  sea,  and  blue  were  the 
mountains  that  seemed  to  shut  out  Strathallan  and 
the  neighbouring  line  of  coast  from  the  rest  of  the 
world.  Half  way  up  the  slope  of  a  lofty  fir-crowned 
hill  stood  the  castle  of  Strathallan,  the  ancient  scat 
of  the  Campbells,  and  sitting  on  the  grass,  under  the 
shelter  of  a  huge  boulder,  that  rose  up  half-way 
between  the  castle  and  the  shore,  were  four  young 
people — the  heir  of  Strathallan  and  his  sister,  and 
their  two  cousins,  Bertha  and  Mildred  Lilling- 
stone.  Bertha  had  quite  recovered  her  strength 
and  her  good  looks ;  indeed,  from  day  to  day  they 
seemed  to  improve,  and  Eric  wondered  at  her  perfect 
and  marvellous  loveliness.  Milly,  too,  was  looking 
the  better  for  the  fresh  sea  breezes  and  the  pure 
mountain  air ;  her  skin,  though  dark,  was  clearer 
P 


210  THE   LTLLINGSTONES. 

than  when  we  first  saw  her  in  the  schoolroom  at 
Lillingstone,  and  there  was  absolutely  a  tinge  of 
colour  on  her  cheeks.  Moreover,  she  held  herself 
better,  and  her  abundant  tresses,  though  disordered 
at  present  by  the  wind,  were  neatly,  and  even 
tastefully  arranged,  for  Lady  Campbell  had  been 
trying  to  teach  Milly  the  duty  of  attending  to  her 
personal  appearance,  while  at  the  same  time  she 
endeavoured  to  persuade  Bertha  to  cultivate  her 
mind  and  to  seek  higher  aims  than  those  she  had 
hitherto  set  before  her.  And  it  would  have  seemed, 
judging  from  outside  appearances,  that  her  en- 
deavours had  met  with  very  decided  success,  for 
Milly  began  to  look  like  a  modern  young  gentle- 
woman, and  Bertha  began  to  apply  herself  to  various 
studies,  and  to  speak  generally  in  a  less  worldly  and 
a  less  complacent  tone. 

They  were  very  busy  now,  those  two  English 
sisters  and  their  Scotch  cousins,  in  examining  the 
ferns  which  they  had  gathered  on  their  way  to  the 
castle.  Mildred  had  flung  herself  heart  and  soul 
into  the  study  of  botany;  and  Bertha  also,  when 
Eric  offered  himself  as  professor,  took  up  the  science 
with  apparent  ardour,  but  with  secret  indifference. 
"What  did  she  care  about  pistils  and  stamens,  and 
plants  PhsDnogamous  and  plants  Cryptogamous  ? 
Ferns  and  heather  were  very  becoming  when  worn 
in  the  hair;  but  all  that  " twaddle,"  —  yes, 
"  twaddle  "  was  the  inelegant  expression  to  which 


STRATHALLAN.  211 

Bertha  privately  condescended — all  that  twaddle 
about  fronds,  sori,  and  sp&re-cases,  and  the  rachis, 
was  wearisome  in  the  last  degree ;  and  when 
Mildred  discovered  for  herself  the  very  trivial  dif- 
ference between  the  Asplenium  viride  and  the  Axple- 
nium  trichomanes,  and  rejoiced  therein,  she  thought 
her  something  more  than  an  enthusiast,  and  very 
nearly  a  simpleton.  But  then  Eric  must  be  a 
simpleton  also,  to  say  nothing  of  Janet ;  for  he  was 
always  seeking  after  ferns,  and  exulting  when  a  i*are 
specimen  came  under  his  observation.  He  was  posi- 
tively rude  one  night,  Bertha  thought,  about  a  very 
beautiful  Scolopendrium,  whose  species  he  could  not 
accurately  determine.  He  walked  away  to  the  old 
gardener  at  the  lodge,  to  consult  him  on  the  subject, 
while  she  was  playing  at  his  own  request,  made 
some  hours  earlier,  his  favourite  airs  from  "La 
Sonnambula." 

Now  Eric  had  made  up  his  mind  to  be  married. 
His  father  wished  it,  his  mother  wished  it,  and  he 
wished  it  very  much  himself;  it  only  remained  to 
discover  the  lady  who  was  to  crown  the  happiness  of 
his  life.  Por  a  young  man  he  was  singularly  un- 
ambitious ;  he  had  no  desire  to  shine  in  the  political 
or  in  the  fashionable  world;  he  wished  nothing 
better  than  to  live  quietly  at  Strathallan  to  his 
life's  end,  serving  God  in  lowliness  and  pureness  of 
heart,  ruling  with  kindly  sway  the  simple  people 
who,  from  his  cradle,  had  looked  upon  him  as  their 

P   2 


212  THE   LTLLINGSTONES. 

Crown  Prince,  and  enjoying  in  the  depths  of  his 
soul  the  grandeur  and  beauty  of  the  sublime  scenery 
of  his  native  home.  But  his  tastes  were  domestic  ; 
and  always  in  his  dreams  of  the  future  there  moved 
by  his  side  a  fair  young  bride  with  gentle  eyes,  and 
loving  tones,  and  a  heart  to  love  him  as  he,  with  his 
strong  passionate  nature,  would  fain  be  loved  by  the 
woman  he  called  his  wife. 

Latterly  this  sweet  vision  had  been  rather  less 
visionary  than  of  yore.  In  all  the  pictures  which, 
unknown  to  any  living  creature,  this  romantic  youth 
was  incessantly  painting  on  thin  air,  his  future  bride 
wore  the  form  and  features  of  Bertha  Lillingstone. 
She  realised  all  his  boyish  dreams  of  grace  and 
beauty ;  her  voice  was  low  and  sweet  in  speech ;  and 
she  sang  him  into  Elysium  on  moonlight  nights, 
when,  with  her  guitar,  she  sat  on  the  terrace  giving 
him  all  his  own  national  airs  and  his  favourite 
English  ballads. 

And  did  Lady  Campbell  perceive  her  son's  growing 
infatuation,  and  did  she  wish  to  have  Bertha  for  a 
daughter  ? 

She  did  perceive  it,  and  Bertha  was  not  the 
daughter  she  would  have  chosen.  But  Lady  Camp- 
bell was  not  made  of  the  stuff  of  which  ordinary 
mothers  are  made.  She  could  trust  her  son  almost 
implicitly — I  should  have  said  quite  implicitly,  had 
not  the  beautiful  Bertha  been  in  question;  and 
moreover,  she  had  the  good  sense  to  feel  that  Eric 


STKATHALLAN.  213 

certainly  had  a  right  to  make  his  own  choice,  for  he 
was  God-fearing,  steady,  and  twenty-two  years  of 
age.  Besides,  she  would  have  some  difficulty  in 
stating  her  grounds  of  objection  to  Bertha.  If  at 
times  she  had  suspicions  about  her  temper,  they  were 
but  suspicions,  for  Bertha  had  always  been  guarded 
in  the  presence  of  her  aunt ;  and  indeed,  since  her 
terrible  adventure  on  the  moors,  had  been,  at  least 
outwardly,  gentler,  humbler,  and  less  given  to  taking 
offence ;  even  that  sad  criminal,  Milly,  was  frequently 
spared  when  her  proceedings  must  certainly  have 
annoyed  her  well-disciplined  sister. 

The  Master  of  Strathallan  was  rather  disposed  to 
make  up  the  match.  He  loved  a  beautiful  face  and 
refined  manners ;  he  did  not  care  about  fortune,  and 
wished  only  that  his  idolised  son  should  make 
himself  happy  in  his  own  way.  Eric's  wife,  when- 
ever she  came,  would  be  his  darling ;  for  Eric's  dear 
sake  he  would  take  her  to  his  heart  and  make  her 
his  pet,  and  believe  that  she  was  all  that  his  son's 
bride  ought  to  be !  and  already  he  began  to  be  pater- 
nally in  love  with  Bertha,  and  bestowed  on  her  more 
petting  and  caressing  than  she  cared  to  receive ; — 
for  Bertha  was  one  of  those  persons  who,  fortunately 
or  unfortunately,  can  live  on  placidly  and  contentedly 
without  any  outward  demonstrations  of  affection  from 
lover,  kindred,  or  friends,  provided  always  they  are  not 
slighted  nor  their  claims  unrecognised.  So  that  her 
uncle's  endearments  and  pet  names  were  rather  too 


214  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

much,  for  her; — only  he  was  Eric's  father;  that 
thought  restored  her  equanimity  when  the  Master 
of  Strathallan  gave  her  great  fatherly  kisses,  and 
hugged  her  in  his  long  arms,  and  called  her  his 
"wee  cushat  dove,"  and  his  "bonnie  birdie."  It 
was  true  he  kissed  his  own  veritable  daughter  ten 
times  oftener  and  twice  as  loudly,  and  he  was  very 
demonstrative  to  Milly,  who  took  his  fancy  hugely, 
because  he  was  sure  she  was  "baith  guid  and  leal," 
— the  Master  of  Strathallan  gloried  in  his  broad 
Scotch — but  then  Janet  did  not  wear  collars,  and 
Milly  never  cared  for  the  rumpling  of  hers,  and  the 
silly  children  liked  to  be  kissed,  and  they  would 
actually  run  to  meet  him  and  claim  their  privilege. 

Lady  Campbell  had  told  her  son  that  she  was  not 
sure  whether  Bertha  was  the  woman  to  make  him 
happy.  She  had  said,  moreover,  that  she  was  not 
quite  satisfied  about  her  Christian  character;  but 
there  had  been  a  visible  alteration  since  her  illness 
in  the  winter,  and  she  begged  him  to  do  nothing 
hastily,  but  to  watch  and  wait  awhile  before  he 
compromised  himself  by  word  or  look.  And  Eric 
promised,  not  altogether  certain  that  his  mother's 
caution  was  needless. 

They  were  sitting,  as  I  told  you,  under  the  shelter 
of  a  monstrous  boulder,  watching  the  force  of  the 
wind  on  the  waves  and  on  the  trees,  but  safe  them- 
selves from  its  unceremonious  skirmishes.  They 
were  puzzled  too  about  a  fern,  which  even  Janet  had 


STRATHALLAN.  215 

never  seen  before ;  and  Eric  persisted  in  making  them 
hunt  out  its  genus  and  species,  instead  of  enlighten- 
ing them  on  the  instant,  according  to  demand. 
Bertha  was  dreadfully  tired  of  the  whole  affair. 
1 ' What  did  it  matter,"  she  said  to  herself,  "what 
the  thing  was  called  ?  A.  fern  was  a  fern,  and  that 
was  enough. "  But  then  Eric  cared  about  ferns  as 
much  as  she  cared  about  servants,  equipage,  and  a 
thoroughly  appointed  establishment — it  behoved  her 
to  care,  or  to  seem  to  care,  also. 

"  I  have  it!  "  cried  Janet,  springing  up  and  career- 
ing about  with  an  energy  unworthy  of  the  dignity 
of  a  young  lady  in  her  sixteenth  year ;  "  I  am  pretty 
sure,  after  all,  it  is  only  a  variety  of  the  Asplenium 
lanceolatum" 

"Nothing  of  the  kind,"  replied  Eric;  "you  are 
wrong  in  the  genus.  Try  again ;  it  is  a  Poly  podium  " 

"  A  Poly  podium  !  "  said  Hilly  eagerly ;  "oh,  that 
alters  the  case  !  Let  us  have  another  search, 
Bertha." 

But  Bsrtha  was  "  'ware  of  a  presence  "  that  very 
naturally  took  off  her  attention  from  the  contemptible 
little  green  thing  about  whose  lineage  and  connections 
she  had  just  been  so  interested ;  for  at  the  foot  of  the 
knoll  where  they  were  sitting,  stood  a  servant  from 
the  house  with  letters  in  his  hand.  Eric  sprang 
down  to  receive  them.  There  were  two — one  for 
Bertha,  one  for  Mildred,  and  both  from  Oldminster. 

Eric  and  Janet  strolled  away  to  a  little  distance 


216  THE    LILL1NGSTONES. 

while  the  sisters  read  their  letters ;  but  they  were 
speedily  recalled  by  something  very  like  a  shriek 
from  Hilly. 

"Is  anything  the  matter?"  cried  Eric,  hurrying 
back.  Hilly  was  looking  red  and  excited,  and  Bertha 
indignant ;  something  had  evidently  occurred. 

"Yes,"  returned  Hilly  at  once;  "there  is  news, 
great  news,  from  home !  Helen  is  going  to  be  mar- 
ried ;  she  has  written  to  tell  us  so." 

"And  I  also  have  a  letter  from  mamma,"  said 
Bertha,  trying  not  to  look  provoked. 

"  And  who  is  it  ?"  asked  Janet,  eagerly :  "any  one 
we  know  ?  Let  me  guess  a  minute — Ah !  I  know, 
it  is  Hr.  Granville  Golding ;  he  went  all  the  way  to 
Hadleigh  to  get  her  a  copy  of  t  In  Hemoriam !' " 

"Wrong,"  cried  Hilly,  rather  loudly.  Bertha,  in 
her  gentlest  tones,  said  that  "  Janet  was  mistaken. 
Helen  had  never  liked  Hr.  Granville  Golding ;  and 
futhermore,  she  did  not  think  he  would  have  the 
presumption  to  address  her.  The  elder  Hr.  Gold- 
ing's  father  had  been  in  business  at  Hadleigh,  and 
his  grandfather  was  a  farmer,  or  a  miller,  or  some- 
thing equally  plebeian." 

There  was  something  in  these  remarks  that  jarred 
most  unpleasantly  on  Eric's  feelings.  He  remem- 
bered that  but  for  Granville  Golding  and  his  noble 
dog,  Bertha  might  have  perished  on  Hasleslack 
Hoor.  He  fancied,  too,  that  the  young  man  parti- 
cularly admired  her ;  and  at  one  time  he  had  rather 


STRATHALLAN.  217 

feared  that  Granville's  claims  would  interfere  with 
his  own,  and  yet  she  despised  him — him,  and  all 
his  race !  It  was  true  that  the  Golding  and  Lilling- 
stone  pedigrees  could  in  no  wise  be  compared ;  but 
then  Granville  was  well-educated,  gentlemanly, 
and  generous ;  and  was  he  to  be  contemned  because 
he  could  not  prove  sixteen  quarterings  ?  Eric  was 
quite  ready  to  acknowledge  that  there  ought  to  be 
equality  of  rank  in  marriage,  but  he  did  not  quite 
believe  that  rank  depended  solely  upon  aristocratic 
descent.  He  saw  that  from  time  to  time  certain 
families  rose  in  the  scale  of  society,  while  others  sank, 
and,  in  most  cases,  deservedly ;  and  he  rather  liked 
the  idea  of  self-elevation ;  for,  if  it  were  sound,  sub- 
stantial elevation,  he  argued,  there  must  have  been, 
as  anterior  causes,  great  moral  worth,  good  sense, 
genius,  and  indomitable  energy  and  perseverance. 
Was  not  such  a  heritage  as  glorious  as  the  blood 
of  the  Normans  ?  Might  not  any  man  be  proud  to 
transmit  such  types  of  character  to  succeeding  gene- 
rations ?  And  as  his  cousin  continued  to  speak 
deprecatingly  of  a  family  whose  worth  and  re- 
spectability were  unquestionable,  whose  sons  were 
undoubted  gentlemen,  and  whose  daughters  were 
pure-minded  and  well  taught,  he  could  contain 
himself  no  longer ;  and  when  she  ceased  speaking, 
burst  out  with — 

'"  Trust  me,  fiertha  Lillingstone; 

From  yon  blue  heavens  above  us  bent, 


218  THE   LILLINGSTONES, 

The  grand  old  gardener  and  his  wife 
Smile  at  the  claims  of  long  descent. 

Howe'er  it  be,  it  seems  to  me, 
'Tis  only  noble  to  be  good, 

Kind  hearts  are  only  coronets, 
And  simple  faith  than  noble  blood/  " 


Bertha  was  aghast;  she  had  no  idea  that  Eric 
was  such  a  democrat,  and  she  was  exceedingly  per- 
plexed as  to  who  the  "  grand  old  gardener  and  his 
wife"  might  be.  She  concluded,  however,  that 
Alfred  Tennyson  referred  to  some  faithful  retainers 
of  his  own  family.  She  began  some  rambling  speech 
about  the  superiority  of  goodness  over  all  other  dis- 
tinctions ;  but  her  remarks  were  not  quite  as  lucid 
as  might  have  been  expected  from  a  person  of 
Bertha's  sound  sense  and  excellent  understanding, 
and  she  felt  that  she  was  stating  the  case  very  con- 
fusedly. It  was  a  relief,  therefore,  when  Milly  and 
Janet  cried  out  simultaneously  that  they  must  talk 
about  Helen's  marriage  now,  and  settle  other  ques- 
tions at  a  future  period. 

"Well,"  said  Janet,  as  Mr.  Granville  is  not  the 
gentleman,  "  I  can  think  of  no  one  else  whom  Helen 
knows;  but  I  dare  say  she  has  made  many  ac- 
quaintances at  Harrop  Court." 

"  She  has  made  one  too  many,"  said  Bertha,  with 
an  asperity  she  vainly  tried  to  disguise.  Had  she 
not  often  and  often,  in  words  most  eloquent,  and 
in  argument  most  convincing,  warned  Helen  against 


STRATH ALLAN.  219 

curates,  and  classed  them  with,  apothecaries'  boys, 
and  lawyers'  clerks,  and  drapers'  assistants  ?  It  was 
enough  to  irritate  a  prudent  sister  like  Bertha,  even 
if  she  could  have  digested  the  unpalatable  fact  that 
her  counsel  had  been  set  at  naught. 

"  I  hope  Helen  is  not  betrothed  to  Sir  John's 
valet,  or  to  that  solemn  butler,"  said  Eric,  with 
mock  agitation.  "  Pray,  Bertha,  relieve  my  cousinly 
anxieties ! " 

"A  little  better  than  that,  of  course.  Helen  has 
too  much  refinement  to  like  any  one  who  is  not  a 
gentleman.  It  is  the  curate! — that  Mr.  Lascelles 
we  saw  at  Specleton,  just  before  we  left  Oldminster, 
and  he  is  as  poor  as  a  church-mouse.  And  mamma 
actually  countenances  the  engagement,  and  talks 
about  their  marriage !  " 

"  And  why  should  she  not  ?  "  replied  Eric.  "  If 
Mr.  Lascelles  is  a  Christian  and  a  gentleman,  and 
if  he  and  Helen  love  each  other,  why  should  a  ques- 
tion of  money  keep  them  apart  ?  " 

"Ah,  Eric!"  returned  Bertha,  "you  do  not 
know  the  harass  and  the  miseries  of  a  very  limited 
income.  How  should  you,  the  heir  of  Strathallan, 
understand  what  it  is  to  have  to  consider  every 
sovereign,  nay,  every  shilling,  before  you  spend  it  ? 
And  then  Helen  has  no  idea  of  economy :  she  has 
the  same  allowance  as  the  rest  of  us,  but  she  never 
makes  it  enough.  She  likes  sketching,  and  reading, 
and  practising,  and  she  has  great  taste,  and  is  really 


220  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

clever  at  fancy-work  and  drawing,  but  all  that  does 
not  qualify  her  to  be  a  poor  clergyman's  wife.  She 
ought  to  marry  a  millionnaire. 

"  And  is  this  Mr.  Lascelles  very  poor?"  asked 
Eric. 

"  He  has  actually  no  certain  income  ;  he  is  taking 
duty  now  at  Harrop  in  the  absence  of  the  rector, 
who,  on  his  return,  will  certainly  dispense  with 
the  services  of  his  curate.  I  dare  say  Sir  John  will 
do  all  he  can,  for  Mr.  Lascelles  is  his  protege,  and 
the  acquaintance  was  commenced  at  his  house ;  but 
I  really  thought  Helen,  with  all  her  romance,  would 
do  letter." 

"  Do  better !  "  Eric  did  not  like  the  words  from 
the  lips  of  a  young  girl.  He  earnestly  wished 
Bertha  were  not  so  exceedingly  prudent,  so  abound- 
ing in  worldly  wisdom.  He  was  silent  awhile,  for 
he  and  Bertha  were  alone.  Milly  had  walked  on 
with  Janet,  to  whom  she  was  confiding  the  contents 
of  her  letter.  Milly  had  seen  Arthur  Lascelles,  and 
she  highly  approved  of  the  engagement. 

At  last  Eric  said,  "  Bertha,  I  suppose  you  would 
not  marry  a  poor  curate  ?  " 

Bertha  coloured,  and  scarcely  knew  how  to  reply : 
Eric's  question  was  personal,  and  her  answer  might 
be  of  importance.  She  thought  a  moment,  and 
then  replied,  "  Certainly,  I  have  never  seen  the 
curate  who  would  tempt  me  to  join  my  fate  with 
his ;  though  I  believe  it  would  be  better  for  me  to 


STRATHALLAN.  22 1 

commit  an  imprudence  than  for  Helen.  She  was 
made  for  petting  and  loving,  and  being  surrounded 
by  luxuries.  I  could  brave  many  things  from  which 
she  would  naturally  shrink ;  I  could  contrive,  and 
work,  and  be  content  to  *  rough  it,'  for  the  sake  of 
any  one  whom  I  cared  about — "  Bertha  was  going 
to  add,  "  and  I  think  I  should  rather  like  it ;  "  but 
she  had  a  conscience,  and  that  conscience  told  her 
that  such  a  statement  would  be  a  positive  untruth, 
so  she  refrained.  But  she  had  said  enough  to  con- 
vince one  who  was  only  too  eager  to  be  convinced ; 
and  Eric  walked  on  by  her  side,  blaming  himself  for 
having  again  been  disloyal  to  his  cousin,  and  to 
his  love.  Had  there  not  been  that  promise  to  his 
mother,  Bertha  would  have  re-entered  Strathallan 
Castle  as  its  future  mistress. 


222  THE    LILLINGSTONES. 


CHAPTER  XYIL 

BETWEEN     TWO      STOOLS. 

THAT  very  evening,  after  the  young  ladies  had  re- 
tired, Eric  once  more  spoke  to  his  mother  of  his 
feelings  towards  Bertha.  Sir  Allan  also  was  pre- 
sent ;  and  he  was  half-inclined  to  censure  his  son's 
prudent  reserve  as  mere  laggard  coolness.  They 
began  by  talking  over  Helen's  engagement,  and 
wondering  how  so  romantic  a  young  lady  could  ever 
venture  to  undertake  the  menage  of  a  poor  clergy- 
man's household ;  and  then  very  naturally  the  con- 
versation reverted  to  Bertha,  and  to  her  views  of 
this  important  era  in  her  sister's  life. 

"I  think,"  said  Lady  Campbell,  "that  Bertha's 
view  of  the  subject  is  exceedingly  just.  She  is  re- 
joiced to  think  that  her  sister  is  happy;  but  she 
knows  Helen's  temperament  too  well  not  to  fear  for 
the  future.  As  she  remarks,  there  is  no  question 
about  principle  or  temper,  but  everything  to  ques- 
tion Avith  regard  to  Helen's  suitability  to  the  position 
she  may  expect  to  hold;  and  she  fears,  lest  the 


BETWEEN   TWO    STOOLS.        •  223 

happiness  of  both  Helen  and  her  betrothed  should 
eventually  be  marred,  if  not  destroyed,  by  continual 
domestic  mismanagement." 

"  I  thought  her  the  most  graceful,  and  languid, 
and  useless  person  I  ever  encountered,"  said  Eric. 
"Mother!  do  you  remember  that  day  when  she  and 
Katty  were  first  invited  to  Harrop  Court  ?  I  do  not 
believe  she  would  ever  have  provided  herself  with 
pocket-handkerchiefs  if  Bertha  had  not  schemed,  and 
worked,  and  packed  for  her.  I  shall  never  forget 
that  deplorable  bonnet,  that  looked  as  if  it  had  been 
to  sea  for  a  week !  " 

Lady  Campbell  smiled  at  the  recollection  of  poor 
Helen's  difficulties  on  that  eventful  morning;  and 
she  recollected  also  how  Bertha  had  done  every- 
thing, and  thought  of  everything  for  her  careless, 
thriftless  sister. 

Sir  Allan  broke  her  reverie.  "My  dear  Nelly, 
Bertha  is  a  little  angel !  Anything  so  winsome  and 
bonnie  I  have  not  seen  for  many  a  long  year ;  not 
since  I  first  saw  you,  Nelly,  in  the  Assembly-rooms 
at  Bristol,  at  that  concert.  Ah!  that  is  nearly  a 
quarter  of  a  century  ago,  and  Bertha's  mother  was 
a  merry  lassie  then,  and  poor  Lina  was  alive  and 
going  to  be  married.  You  are  very  bonnie,  Nelly; 
I  am  not  sure  that  Bertha  comes  up  to  you ! " 

"  It  is  not  fair  to  make  comparisons,  Allan.  My 
dark  complexion,  and  my  raven-black  tresses,  are  so 
utterly  dissimilar  from  Bertha's  fair,  delicate  beauty. 


224  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

It  is  very  good  of  you  to  think  your  own  wife  the 
handsomer ;  that  is,  the  handsomer  in  days  gone-by, 
when,  like  her  niece,  she  was  sweet  seventeen ;  but 
I  am  quite  sure  that  even  then,  in  her  best  days, 
her  charms  fell  short  of  Bertha's." 

tl  We  will  not  institute  comparisons  at  all,"  said 
Eric ;  "  but  it  must  be  confessed  that  Bertha's 
beauty  is  as  faultless  as  it  is  remarkable  ;  and  I 
really  believe,  notwithstanding  all  our  misgivings, 
that  her  mind  is  as  fair  and  as  perfectly  propor- 
tioned. I  have  watched  her  very  closely,  mother, 
and  the  more  I  see  of  her,  the  more  reason  I  find  to 
retract  the  unworthy  suspicions  I  formed  in  the 
early  day?  of  our  acquaintance.  I  believe  that  she 
is  everything  that  I  could  wish! " 

And  yet,  even  as  he  spoke,  he  accused  himself  of 
insincerity,  for  he  did  wish  that  to  Bertha's  exqui- 
site beauty  and  sweetness  of  manner  were  allied 
some  slight  tinge  of  poor  Helen's  despised  romance, 
and  some  portion  of  Milly's  frank,  impetuous  na- 
ture, and  ardent  love  of  study.  "  But  then,"  he 
argued,  "  am  I  not  a  wretched  coxcomb,  to  be  re- 
quiring the  perfections  of  several  characters  to  be 
united  in  one  for  my  especial  benefit  ?  And  is  it 
not  the  excess  of  vanity  to  suppose  that  such  a 
woman  as  I  would  create,  could  ever  care  for  me, 
or  sacrifice  herself  to  one  so  faulty,  and  so  lacking 
in  much  that  is  good  and  beautiful  ?  " 

"  And  yet  I  wish  she  were  not  quite  so  prudent," 


BETWEEN   TWO   STOOLS.  225 

said  Lady  Campbell,  with  a  half-suppressed  sigh  ; 
"  such  an  excess  of  worldly  wisdom  in  a  young  girl 
is  not,  I  think,  desirable.  It  must  militate  against 
bettei  tendencies,  against  higher  aspirations." 

"  My  dear  Nelly,"  interrupted  her  husband,  "I 
think  you  are  really  too  hard  upon  Bertha;  you 
require  more  from  her  than  from  the  rest  of  her 
family,  or  from  your  own  children.  I  have  had 
a  great  deal  of  her  company  since  she  came  to 
Strathallan,  and  I  must  say  that  I  never  saw  a 
sweeter,  prettier,  more  sensible  little  lassie  in  my 
life  ;  and  I  tell  you,  Eric,  /  am  quite  satisfied  that 
she  should  be  Lady  of  Strathallan,  and  reign  here 
with  you,  when  it  pleases  God  to  take  your  mother 
and  myself  to  a  better  world." 

Eric's  eyes  showed  his  appreciation  of  his  father's 
judgment ;  he,  too,  as  was  very  natural,  thought  his 
mother  rather  hard  and  uncompromising  towards  the 
lady  of  his  love.  "And  yet,"  argued  Eric,  "  my 
mother  is  the  gentlest,  humblest,  most  charitable 
woman  in  existence ;  and,  withal,  she  is  so  discri- 
minating, so  far-seeing,  and  so  unfailingly  correct  in 
her  previsions.  I  wish  Bertha  were  a  girl  after  her 
own  heart.  I  really  believe  she  would  rather  I  had 
fallen  in  love  with  that  lackadaisical  Helen,  or  even 
with  that  good  little  rough  diamond,  Milly !  Well, 
it  cannot  be  helped.  1  see  my  mother  feels  more  than 
she  will  say,  and  even  Janet  does  not  take  to  her 
as  I  could  wish.  But  then,  if  Bertha  loves  me,  and 
ft 


226  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

I  know  she  does,  I  shall  have  so  much  influence 
over  her,  I  can  mould  her  to  my  will;  a  girl  of 
seventeen  can  have  no  permanent  tastes,  no  solid 
judgment ;  surely,  I  can  alter  the  little  things  my 
mother  dislikes,  and  surely,  my  mother  herself  can 
and  will  supply  the  few  finishing  touches  that  are 
requisite  to  the  perfection  of  a  character  that  is 
lacking  in  so  little." 

So  mused  Eric  Campbell,  and  a  most  illogical 
and  contradictory  musing  it  was.  But  he  went  to 
bed  that  night  determined  to  propose  to  Bertha  in 
a  week  or  two  at  the  farthest;  he  was  resolved 
she  should  return  to  Oldminster  as  his  betrothed. 
The  next  day  there  were  letters  again — a  whole 
budget  for  everybody ;  and  Bertha  carried  off  hers 
into  the  seclusion  of  her  own  chamber.  There  was 
a  long  epistle  from  Katty,  full  of  home  news  and 
pleasant  chat,  and  there  was  a  stiff  communication 
from  Walter,  written  with  the  hardest  of  pens,  and 
with  an  elaboration  that  was  worthy  of  Bertha  herself. 
He  had,  written  by  the  same  post  to  Milly,  whom 
he  addressed  as, "  old, fellow,"  and  "  dear  little  Mill." 

But  Bertha  had  another  correspondent — a  new 
one,  apparently ;  for  the  handwriting,  though  not 
quite  strange,  was  unfamiliar,  and  she  could  not 
guess  whose  communication  she  was  going  to  read. 
She  opened  it  at  length,  and  turning  at  once  to  the 
signature,  found  it  to  be  "  Granville  Golding." 
Her  face  grew  hot,  for  she  knew  instinctively  what 


BETWEEN   TWO    STOOLS.  227 

was  coming.  Yes  ;  that  very  Granville  Golding, 
whom  she  had  avowed  would  never  have  the  pre- 
sumption to  think  of  Helen,  had  actually  proposed 
to  her !  The  young  man's  better  was  manly  and 
ingenuous.  In  some  measure  he  knew  himself  to  be 
Bertha's  inferior;  but  he  pleaded  that  he  loved  her 
devotedly ;  that  Ids  education  had  been  as  liberal  as 
her  own  brother's;  that  his  entire  family  would 
with  rapture  open  their  arms  to  receive  her ;  and 
last,  but  not  least,  that  his  fortune  was  now  worthy 
of  her  acceptance.  His  godfather,  from  whom  he 
had  never  received  the  slightest  notice  since  at  the 
baptismal  font  he  had  in  his  name  renounced  ' '  the 
pomps  and  vanities  of  this  wicked  world,  and  all 
the  sinful  lusts  of  the  flesh,"  was  just  dead,  and  his 
will  being  opened — he,  Granville  Golding,  eldest 
son  of  Thomas  and  Sarah  Golding,  of  Oldminster, 
was  left  sole  heritor  of  nearly  a  million  of  money  ! 

A  million  of  money  !  Bertha  gasped  for  breath, 
for  she  was  asked  to  marry  this  million  of  money. 
It  was  laid  at  her  feet ;  she  had  but  to  stretch  out 
her  hand  and  pick  it  up. 

And  if  she  did  pick  it  up,  and  pay  for  it  by 
mingling  the  proud  ichor  of  the  Lillingstones  with 
the  less  unmingled  blood  of  the  Goldings — the  Gold- 
ings  who  came  of  farmers,  and  millers,  and  corn- 
dealers,  and  money-mongers,  what  then?  Why, 
she  would  secure  a  house  in  town,  a  country-seat, 
a  box  at  the  opera,  her  own  carriage,  liveries,  dia- 


228  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

monds,  presentation  at  court,  the  delights  of  the 
season,  Parisian  milinery,  French  cooks,  and  French 
maids,  and — a  well-looking,  gentlemanly,  good  tem- 
pered, adoring  hmland. 

Granville  Golding  had  not  spoken  to  Mrs.  Lilling- 
stone ;  he  wished  first  to  be  sure  of  Bertha's  favour, 
and  then,  if  she  would  only  write  him  one  little 
line,  nay,  only  one  little  word,  to  signify  her  accept- 
ance of  his  hand  and  of  his  wealth,  he  would  see 
her  mother  without  an  hour's  delay,  obtain  her 
sanction,  and  immediately  set  off  to  Strathallan,  to 
ratify  in  his  own  person  the  engagement  on  which 
his  happiness  for  life  depended. 

Bertha  felt  herself  to  be  in  a  regular  dilemma ; 
though  no  actual  love-passages  had  passed  between 
herself  and  Eric,  there  had  been  a  great  deal  that 
might  have  been  put  down  as  love-making.  Eric 
had  shown  his  partiality  a  thousand  times ;  there 
had  been  smiles,  glances,  words,  that  had  spoken 
volumes,  and  Bertha  had  shown  unmistakably  that 
they  were  fully  understood,  and  that  she  was  far 
from  displeased. 

Like  a  prudent  young  woman  as  she  was,  she 
began  to  weigh  the  pro  and  con  of  the  business ;  for 
business,  and  very  serious  business  it  certainly  was. 
Eric  offered  her  rank  equal  to  her  own  ;  he  was  heir 
of  Strathallan,  and  he  would  make  her  eventually 
Lady  Campbell.  Bertha  liked  titles,  and  she  felt 
secure  that  he  would  prove  a  good,  kind,  generous, 


BETWEEN   TWO    STOOLS.  229 

indulgent  husband — her  woman's  instinct  told  her 
that  he  loved  her  passionately ;  but  then  his  tastes 
and  hers  were  utterly  dissimilar.  He  would  take  her 
to  town  sometimes,  no  doubt,  but  by  far  the  greater 
portion  of  her  time  would  be  passed  at  Strathallan, 
and  already  Strathallan  Castle,  though  its  heir  was 
her  lover,  was  becoming  a  dull,  wearying  sort  of 
place.  Magnificent  scenery  !  What  did  she  care 
about  it  ?  She  had  looked  at  it  now  for  more  than  a 
month,  and  she  knew  it  by  heart ;  and  if  she  became 
Mrs.  Granville  Golding,  the  beauties  of  the  Ehine, 
and  the  glories  of  Switzerland  and  Italy  would  be 
open  to  her,  and  she  began  to  feel  that  life  in  the 
country — in  such  country  as  Strathallan,  especially, 
would  be  insupportable.  So  she  pondered  the  ques- 
tion a  little  while  longer,  and  then  came  to  a 
decision.  She  would  accept  Granville  Golding;  it 
became  her  duty  to  accept  him ;  as  the  wife  of  a 
man  of  wealth  she  would  be  able  to  benefit  her 
family,  assist  Alfred  in  all  his  views,  educate  Walter 
and  Alice,  and  introduce  her  sisters  into  society.  Oh, 
that  stupid,  thoughtless  Helen !  why  had  she  gone 
and  sealed  her  fate,  when  now  she  might  have  com- 
manded such  remarkable  advantages?  But  even 
there  she  could  be  useful;  money  was  power;  and 
influence  and  patronage  might  be  purchased  for  coin. 
"  No,"  said  Bertha  to  herself,  "  I  cannot  answer  it 
to  my  conscience  to  refuse  Granville  Golding.  As  a 
sister  and  as  a  daughter,  I  should  be  most  unwise, 


230  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

most  selfish.  And  besides  he,  or  rather  his  dog, 
saved  my  life ;  and  /  know  he  declared  that  beauty 
like  mine  he  had  never  seen,  or  even  imagined. 
But  I  wish  I  had  not  spoken  so  decisively  yesterday. 
After  speaking  as  I  did  on  the  subject  of  the  Golding 
pedigree,  it  will  seem  strange,  nay,  equivocal,  that 
I  should  be  willing  to-day  to  marry  into  their 
family.  And  when  the  news  of  this  immense  fortune 
gets  bruited  about,  as  it  will,  from  John  0' Groat's 
to  Lands'  End,  it  will  seem  as  if  it  were  the  money 
I  cared  about,  instead  of  the  man,  and  I  should  not 
like  to  be  pointed  out  as  the  young  lady  who  mar- 
ried at  seventeen  for  an  establishment.  Well !  I 
must  rely  on  my  own  tact.  I  am  only  thankful 
Eric  did  not  speak  out  last  night,  when  I  was 
secretly  exasperated  at  his  unloverlike  caution,  or 
bashfulness,  whichever  it  might  be ;  because  if  he 
had,  I  should  have  been  his  betrothed  at  this 
moment ;  and  I  do  not  think  I  should  ever  have  had 
courage  to  break  with  him,  when  once  the  engage- 
ment was  completed.  But  I  cannot  have  Granville 
here,  Eric  might  make  revelations  that  would  be 
fatal  to  my  prospects ;  and  Granville  himself,  he  is 
quick  enough;  he  might  discern  something.  I 
think  I  will  write  to  him,  and  say  that  I  am  so  taken 
by  surprise,  that  I  must  request  a  little  time  for 
consideration.  I  will  say  that  I  am  honoured  by  his 
proposal,  and  that  I  think  I  could  be  happy  with 
him ;  but  that  before  making  so  important  a  de- 


BETWEEN   TWO   STOOLS.  231 

cision,  I  ought  to  weigh  the  matter  very  closely— 
he  cannot  find  fault  with  that,  and  he  cannot  see 
mamma  till  I  write  again ;  and  in  the  meantime  I  can 
alter  my  manner  to  Eric,  and  settle  my  general  plan 
of  action. 

And  Eertha  was  true  to  her  resolve ;  she  wrote  to 
her  lover  at  Oldminster,  and  made  quite  an  elope- 
ment on  the  following  afternoon  in  order  to  post  her 
letter  secretly ;  she  banished  all  the  little  shy  con- 
ocious  airs  she  had  been  wont  to  practise  for  Eric's 
benefit,  and  treated  him  with  frank,  cousinly  un- 
reserve ;  she  observed  in  his  hearing  that  a  country 
life  must  be  unendurable,  and  declared  herself  out 
of  humour  with  that  silly  botanising.  Eric  was 
thunderstruck,  and  profoundly  miserable ;  and  he  at 
once  attributed  Bertha's  change  of  conduct  to  the 
displeasure  she  might  justly  feel  at  the  delay  of  his 
own  avowal  of  love.  She  felt  herself  trifled  with, 
no  doubt.  He  resolved  that  she  should  no  longer 
have  cause  for  such  resentment.  So  he  proposed, 
and  received,  of  course,  a  kind,  even  affectionate, 
but  still  decided  rejection. 


232  THE   LILLINGSTONES 


CHAPTEE  XVIII. 

THE    SCHOLARSHIP. 

THE  time  came  at  last  for  the  contests  for  the  Old- 
minster  Grammar  School  scholarships.  It  was  early 
morning,  and  Alfred  was  sitting  alone  in  the  dining- 
room,  looking  over  his  papers,  and  making  all  possible 
preparations  for  the  approaching  examination.  All 
was  silent  in  the  house ;  the  servants  were  not  yet 
stirring,  and  nothing  broke  the  stillness  except  the 
loud,  clear  singing  of  Helen's  canary  in  his  gilded 
cage ;  and,  pen  in  hand,  the  young  man  worked  on 
without  let  or  hindrance  till  past  seven  o'clock, 
when  the  door  opened,  and  Katty  stole  quietly  into 
the  room. 

With  an  expressive  yawn  Alfred  tossed  his  "  Iliad" 
to  the  farther  end  of  the  table,  and  closed  his 
"  Herodotus"  with  a  bang  that  seemed  to  say  that 
for  the  present  his  services  could  be  comfortably 
dispensed  with. 

"  Come  here,  old  Kittums,"  said  Alfred,  drawing 
his  sister  to  a  chair  by  his  side,  and  passing  his  arm 


THE   SCHOLARSHIP.  233 

affectionately  round  her  waist.  "-Look  here  !  I've 
got  it  all  up  pretty  well ;  but  it  has  been  very  close 
work,  I  can  tell  you ;  it  had  struck  one  before  I 
laid  down  my  pen  last  night,  or  rather  this  morning, 
and  it  must  have  been  close  upon  two  before  I  went 
to  sleep,  and  I  was  hard  at  work  again  down  here 
when  the  Minster  clock  went  five." 

Now  many  sisters,  quite  as  kind  as  Kate,  but  not 
so  considerate,  would  have  been  tempted  to  say,  "But 
what  a  pity  that  you  left  so  much  work  to  the  last ; 
how  many  hours  you  have  wasted  in  bed,  in  novel- 
reading  and  in  desultory  pursuits,  that  would  be  in- 
valuable now,  had  you  spent  them  more  prudently! 
•  I  hope  all  this  confidence  and  dilatoriness  may  not 
issue  in  defeat."  But  Katty  was  true  to  the  best 
instincts  of  her  womanhood,  and  these  told  her  that 
it  was  a  serious  error  to  torment  a  man  with  his  own 
defalcations  when  the  crisis  of  his  fate  was  impend- 
ing, and  above  all,  when  the  evil  was  altogether  past 
remedy.  She  could  not  help  thinking  it  was  a  great 
pity  that  so  much  should  have  been  crowded  into 
the  last  few  days ;  that  all  the  late  winter  and  the 
spring  should  have  passed  away  with  so  little  steady 
labour,  and  of  course,  with  such  unsatisfactory  re- 
sults;  but  she  only  said,  "And  you  have  quite 
finished  now  ?  " 

"Yes!  that  is,  I  have  done  all  that  I  can.  It 
is  weary  work,  this  grinding  and  cramming,  Katty, 
and  I  do  wish  I  had  equalised  my  work  a  little, 


234  THE   TJLLINGSTONES. 

and  not  left  the  chief  pressure  to  the  very  last. 
However,  it's  only  your  plodding,  painstaking 
students,  who  toil  on  for  ever  with  more  good  will 
than  success,  poor  fellows,  that  always  keep  up 
to  the  mark,  and  never  allow  themselves  a  week's 
laziness ;  they  can't  afford  to  lose  ground,  you  know, 
because  they  feel  they  can't  depend  upon  themselves 
to  catch  up  if  they  find  themselves  startlingly  behind 
hand.  I  never  could  go  at  the  jog-trot  pace." 

"And  yet  jog-trot  wins  the  race  sometimes," 
said  Katty,  half  jestingly ;  she  had  a  strong  inclina- 
tion to  refer  to  the  old  fable  of  the  "hare  and  the 
tortoise." 

"  Ah,  yes,"  returned  her  brother,  thinking  of  the  • 
same  thing.  "The  hare  and  the  tortoise,  you 
know;  but  that  is  only  a  fable,  though  people — 
good  stupid  people — do  quote  it  as  if  it  were  in  the 
Bible.  I  am  not  sure  that  some  of  them  know  which 
of  the  wise  saws  really  are  in  the  Bible,  and  which 
are  not.  Captain  Cuttle  was  not  the  only  man  who 
made  blunders  on  that  head.  But  depend  upon  it, 
Katty,  one  handful  of  real  talent  is  worth  a  bushel, 
ay,  twenty  bushels,  of  plodding,  poring,  tread-mill 
mediocrity.  Patience  and  perseverance  may  do  a 
great  deal,  I  know,  but  they  will  never  achieve 
much  lasting  good,  unassisted  by  genius.  Well ;  I 
am  tired  :  I  wish  it  were  bed-time,  for  I  feel  dead 
beat,  Katty." 

'  *  You  want  some  breakfast, ' '  replied  Katty,  brightly. 


THE   SCHOLARSHIP.  233 

She  saw  that  Alfred  was  nervous  and  irritable,  and 
by  no  means  physically  qualified  for  the  long  day's 
work  and  harass.  His  very  tone  of  confidence  be- 
trayed doubt  of  his  own  position ;  and  all  the  while 
he  spoke,  Katty  felt  as  if  he  were  arguing  against 
some  invisible  opponent,  who  kept  telling  him  that 
his  every  word  was  a  mistake  and  a  delusion.  She 
thought  the  best  thing  she  could  do  was  to  minister 
to  his  creature  comforts,  as  he  must  certainly  be 
half-starving,  since  he  had  eaten  no  supper  on  the 
previous  night,  and  had  been  hard  at  work  for  about 
three  hours.  So  she  went  away  to  the  kitchen  and 
asked  Sarah  to  grind  some  fresh  coffee  immediately ; 
and  in  less  time  than  ever  she  had  prepared  break- 
fast before,  she  was  once  more  in  the  dining-room 
with  a  large  cup  of  hot  fragrant  coffee,  well  creamed 
and  sugared,  and  thin  bread  and  butter  and  biscuits 
at  discretion. 

"You  are  my  good  genius,  Katty,"  said  Alfred, 
when  he  had  eaten  the  last  crumb,  and  drained  the 
last  drop  of  his  second  cup.  "  You  don't  know 
how  horribly  bored  I  was  beginning  to  feel-,  and  my 
courage,  like  the  redoubtable  Bob  Acres',  was  all 
oozing  out  at  my  finger  ends.  I  was  disgusted 
with  myself  and  with  my  work.  I  had  the  sensa- 
tion of  being  doomed.  However,  I  am  all  right 
again  now,  thanks  to  you,  Katty.  Really  you  women 
are,  after  all,  veritable  angels;  you  know  exactly 
what  a  fellow  wants,  and  if  it's  anything  short  of 


236  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

the  moon,  or  a  roc's  egg,  or  a  four-leaved  shamrock, 
you  generally  manage  to  place  it  at  his  disposal." 

"  An  eloquent  tribute  to  the  superiority  of  my 
sex,"  replied  Katty,  laughing;  " but  no  more  than 
we  deserve.  But  now  having  convinced  you,  through 
the  medium  of  a  good  breakfast,  that  I  am  a  veri- 
table angel,  I  will  go  away;  for,  after  the  refresh- 
ment I  have  administered,  I  shall  expect  you  to  set 
to  work  again  with  hearty  good- will.  I  dare  say  there 
are  some  little  bits  yet  that  will  be  all  the  better 
for  another  glancing  over." 

"That  there  are,"  he  returned,  somewhat  gloomily. 
"  Yes  ;  I  had  better  put  my  shoulder  to  the  wheel 
again.  The  worst  of  it  is,  the  more  I  grind,  the 
more  dissatisfied  I  feel.  Just  put  me  up  some  bis- 
cuits, please,  Katty;  I  shall  not  come  home  to 
dinner,  and  I  suppose  it  won't  do  to  fast,  even 
though  one  has  no  appetite." 

Katty  did  as  she  was  bid,  and  added  to  the 
biscuits  a  flask  of  sherry-and- water ;  she  only 
wished  she  could  be  there  to  ensure  the  due  con- 
sumption of  what  she  so  considerately  provided. 

And  then,  the  last  moment  being  come,  Alfred 
strapped  together  his  books,  and  put  on  his  college- 
cap  as  firmly  as  if  it  were  designed  to  keep  in  place 
all  the  knowledge  and  wisdom  it  was  supposed  to 
cover,  and  without  saying  good-bye  to  anybody 
strode  away  at  a  furious  rate,  and  was  down  the 
street,  and  round  the  corner  of  ITelsthorpe  Lane 


THE   SCHOLARSHIP.  237 

before  Katty  could  get  back  from  the  hall   to  the 
dining-room  window. 

It  was  a  long  wearying  day,  and  there  was  no 
Bertha  to  compose  their  minds,  and  to  administer 
wholesome  advice.  Alice  and  Walter  had  already 
begun  theTr  holidays,  and  it  was  too  hot  to  play  in 
the  garden,  so  they  made  themselves  exceedingly 
troublesome  in  the  house.  Helen  sewed  discon- 
tentedly at  a  piece  of  calico  taken  from  the  appalling 
heap  of  materials  so  kindly  furnished  by  Lady 
Harrop ;  but  her  hands  were  warm,  her  needle  rusty, 
and  her  cotton  too  coarse,  and  she  made  little  pro- 
gress with  the  long  seam  she  began  soon  after 
breakfast.  Katty  had  enough  to  do  in  superintend- 
ing household  concerns ;  alternately  scolding  and 
coaxing  the  two  children,  and  keeping  up  her 
mother's  spirits,  which  were  all  the  morning  at  the 
very  lowest  ebb. 

Nevertheless,  even  to  Katty,  the  hours  till  their 
usual  mid-day  dinner  were  very  long  and  wean- 
some,  and  afterwards,  as  the  time  of  Alfred's  return 
drew  near,  they  went  all  too  quickly,  and  she  wished 
it  were  morning  again.  She  fancied  she  had  never 
realised,  till  that  day,  how  much  depended  upon 
Alfred's  gaining  the  scholarship.  She  had  taught 
herself  to  believe  what  her  brother  had  told  her  a 
hundred  times  since  they  first  came  to  Oldminster, 
that  the  taking  of  this  scholarship  was  the  first 
step  in  the  steep  ascent  which  was  to  take  them  all 


238  THE   L1LLINGSTONES. 

back  again  to  dear  old  Lillingstone  How  and  why 
this  was  so,  Katty  could  not  tell.  Alfred  had  said 
that  before  he  could  do  anything — which  anything 
certainly  meant  gaining  money — he  must  finish  his 
education,  which,  in  the  interim,  he  regarded  as  a 
certain  means  to  a  certain  end.  And  education — 
which  may  mean  anything,  from  an  occasional 
quarter  at  a  national  school,  to  a  lifetime  of  studious 
toil — meant  with  all  the  Lillingstones,  tutors  and 
public  schools  up  to  a  prescribed  age,  and  then 
graduation  at  one  of  the  universities.  The  Lilling- 
stones of  Lillingstone  had  graduated  at  Oxford  from 
time  immemorial,  and  the  idea  of  setting  themselves 
to  work  in  the  wide  arena  of  the  world  without 
such  a  novitiate  in  the  halls  of  learning,  seemed 
altogether  preposterous  and  impossible. 

Certainly  it  was  a  new  thing  for  a  Lillingstone 
to  work  at  all,  unless  it  were  in  his  country's 
senate-house,  or  on  the  magisterial  bench,  or  in 
the  president's  chair  at  a  public  dinner  or  a  public 
meeting — and  classics  and  mathematics,  and  the 
tone  which  university  life  gives  a  man,  told  very 
well  in  such  positions ;  but  then,  the  living  re- 
presentative of  the  house  of  Lillingstone  was  called 
to  far  other  toil — toil  that  must  result  in  something 
more  substantial  than  mere  honour  and  glory — toil 
that  must  bring  in  current  coin  of  the  realm,  bank- 
notes; and  sovereigns,  and  a  cheque-book,  and  a 
comfortable  balance  at  the  banker's.  And  how  did 


THE   SCHOLARSHIP.  239 

Alfred  mean  to  turn  his  Latin  and  Greek,  his  dac- 
tyls and  spondees,  his  cube-root  and  his  equations, 
into  those  desirable  little  bits  of  silver  and  gold 
bearing  the  profile  of  her  most  gracious  Majesty? 
Katharine,  with  her  simple  good  sense,  and  her 
almost  twenty-one  years'  experience,  could  not  ima- 
gine. Would  he  be  a  clergyman?  She  thought 
not;  he  was  too  conscientious  to  tamper  with 
holy  things ;  and  if  he  were  not,  it  was  difficult 
to  see  how  any  amount  of  clerical  patronage  could 
conduce  to  the  restoration  of  the  family  estates. 
A  barrister  ?  Worse  and  worse.  Where  were  the 
means  required  for  necessary  preparation  for  that 
learned  profession,  in  which  the  chrysalis  state 
is  sometimes  prolonged  for  an  unwarrantable  period. 
An  author?  Ah!  that  might  do,  indeed.  Katty 
thought  of  Sir  Walter  Scott,  and  Lord  Byron,  and 
she  imagined  that  Charles  Dickens  must  be  growing 
tolerably  rich,  and  able  to  redeem  his  inheritance, 
if  he  had  ever  lost  it.  But  she  was  not  at  all  sure 
that  Alfred  had  any  inclination  towards  authorship ; 
and  in  the  midst  of  her  perplexity  the  clock  struck 
five,  and  she  knew  that  the  hour  of  trial  was  over, 
and  the  combat  decided.  He  would  soon  be  at  home. 
Almost  tremblingly  she  took  her  work  into  the 
drawing-room,  where  Helen  and  her  mother  were 
making  each  other  by  turns  despondent  and  over- 
confident. They  said  little,  and  Katty  sewed  as 
fast  as  if  by  making  good  speed  she  would  secure 


240  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

i 
her  brother's   success.      Presently  they  heard  the 

front  door  open  and  shut,  and  AI f red's  step  in  the 
hall.  For  worlds,  neither  Katty  nor  her  mother 
could  have  risen  to  meet  him,  and  inquire  the  result 
of  the  examination  ;  they  sat  looting  at  each  other 
doubtfully,  neither  moving  nor  speaking  a  word. 
Helen  felt  miserably  nervous,  and  wished  Arthur 
were  there  to  comfort  her.  Oh !  when  would  he 
come  in  ?  The  minutes  seemed  like  hours  since  they 
had  become  aware  of  his  presence  in  the  house. 

He  did  not  come  in  at  all.  As  they  listened  in 
breathless  silence,  they  heard,  to  their  consternation, 
that  he  was  going  up -stairs,  with  a  slow  and  heavy 
tread,  miserably  different  from  his  wonted  boyish 
elastic  step. 

"He  has  failed — it  is  all  over!"  said  Mrs.  Lil- 
lingstone,  sinking  back  upon  the  sofa.  Helen  burst 
into  tears,  and  sobbed  piteously. 

"  Shall  1  go  to  him,  Katty,  or  will  you?"  asked 
Mrs.  Lillingstone,  presently. 

"  I  think,  mamma" — returned  Katty,  trying  for 
her  mother's  sake  to  choke  back  the  tears  that  were 
rising  fast — "  I  think  we  had  better  leave  him  a 
little  while.  If  he  has  been  unsuccessful  he  will  like 
to  be  alone  a  little,  I  know.  He  will  get  strength 
and  calmness  best  if  he  is  left  to  himself  at  present." 

Mrs.  Lillingstone  mournfully  acquiesced ;  but  the 
time  passed  on,  and  nothing-  was  heard  of  him  whom 
they  had  hoped  to  welcome  home  as  the  conquering 


THE    SCHOLARSHIP.  241 

hero  of  the  day.  Katty  gave  the  children  their  tea, 
and  sent  them  for  a  walk  with  the  little  housemaid ; 
but  no  one  else  could  make  up  their  minds  to  eat  or 
to  drink — every  thought,  every  sympathy,  every 
emotion  was  with  the  son  and  brother  so  sorrow- 
fully secluded  in  his  own  chamber. 

It  was  getting  dusk,  when  Katty  said,  "  Mamma, 
don't  you  think  it  would  be  as  well  to  go  to  Alfred 
Xow  ?  I  am  afraid  he  does  not  mean  to  come  down 
to-night." 

"  Mrs.  Lillingstone  needed  no  second  incentive ; 
she  was  longing  to  go  to  her  boy,  only  she  was 
afraid  of  vexing  him,  and  she  had  a  habit  of  shrink- 
ing, herself,  from  taking  the  initiative.  But  as  Katty 
thought  it  best,  she  hesitated  no  longer,  and  folding 
up  her  work  with  trembling  hands,  she  went  up  to 
the  room  which  was  her  son's  study,  as  well  as  his 
sleeping-chamber.  She  knocked  at  the  door ;  there 
was  no  answer,  and  she  tried  the  handle ;  but  the 
bolt  was  drawn,  and  again  and  again  she  knocked, 
crying,  " Alfred,  Alfred,  my  boy!  let  me  in;  let 
your  mother  in !  " 

In  a  rough,  husky  voice,  Alfred  replied  at  length, 
"  Presently,  presently,  mother  !  Not  yet ;  come 
again  in  half  an  hour." 

So  the  poor  mother  went  down  again  with  a 
sinking  heart,  and  in  the  drawing-room,  talking  to 
Kate  and  Helen,  she  found  Mr.  Miller,  one  of  the 
under-masters  of  the  Oldrninster  Grammar  School. 


242  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

She  held  out  her  hand  in  silence.  He  read  her 
misery  in  her  pale,  sad  face,  and  he  tried  to  say 
something  that  should  console  her ;  hut  it  was  all  in 
vain,  and  he  felt  sorry  that  he  had  come  at  all, 
since  the  wound  was  too  recent  to  be  healed  or  even 
soothed  by  kind  words  or  gentle  sympathy.  And  he 
himself  was  sorely  disappointed,  for  he  had  hoped 
great  things  of  Alfred  Lillingstone ;  for,  up  to  the 
period  of  his  success  at  Christmas,  he  had  given 
promise  of  no  ordinary  talent  and  disposition  for 
work.  But  during  the  last  half-year,  everything 
had  been  changed;  he  had  been  careless  and  self- 
confident,  working  only  by  fits  and  starts,  and 
relying,  as  it  seemed,  far  too  much  on  his  own 
natural  quickness  and  excellent  capacity — he  had 
gloried,  Mr.  Miller  fancied,  in  keeping  his  place 
with  as  little  preparation  as  could  be,  while  his  com- 
peers, with  less  talent,  were  toiling  day  after  day  in 
order  to  continue  to  hold  their  position  in  the  form. 
He  lingered  a  little  while,  trying  to  comfort  them 
by  saying  that  failure  sometimes  was  a  greater 
blessing  than  success,  and  that  doubtless  there  was  a 
very  sufficient  reason  for  this  trial,  painful  and  un- 
locked for  as  it  was,  since  every  link  in  the  chain  of 
life  was  wrought  and  fitted  in  by  One  who  knew 
best  what  was  needed  for  discipline  and  for  future 
joy.  He  went  away,  leaving  Katty  a  little  less 
sorrowful ;  but  Helen  and  her  mother  were  none 
the  better  for  his  visit.  Half  an  hour  had  elapsed ; 


THE   SCHOLARSHIP.  243 

Mrs.  Lillingstone  went  again  to  seek  admittance  to 
her  son's  room.  This  time  the  door  was  merely 
latched,  and  she  went  in  immediately.  Alfred  was 
lying  on  his  hed,  his  books  lay  scattered  about  the 
floor,  and  his  face  was  swollen  with  crying.  He 
was  but  a  boy,  after  all,  and  there  are  some  tears 
that  can  never  disgrace  a  man. 

Mrs.  Lillingstone  stooped  down  and  kissed  him 
fondly,  and  he  threw  himself  into  her  arms,  and 
wept  there  as  unrestrainedly  as  when,  years  ago,  he 
had  poured  out  his  childish  sorrows  on  that  surest 
and  sweetest  of  earthly  resting-places  —  a  loving 
mother's  bosom ! 


244  THE   LILLINGSTONE8, 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

NEW   PATHS. 

"On,  Katty!  oh,  Alfred!  what  do  you  think  has 
happened?"  said  Helen,  when  on  the  following 
evening  they  came  home  from  a  long  walk  to 
Specleton. 

"I  cannot  guess!"  was  Katty 's  breathless  ex- 
clamation ;  but  she  secretly  hoped  that  the  Oxford 
dons  had  come  in  a  body  to  reverse  the  decision 
respecting  the  scholarship. 

"Arthur  Lascelles  has  a  living  given  him!"  re- 
plied Alfred. 

"You  are  wrong!"  said  Helen,  with  a  pensive 
sigh.  "  I  heard  from  Arthur  this  morning,  and  his 
prospects  are  gloomier  than  ever ;  that  old  disagree- 
able vicar  is  coming  back  again  to  shock  the  people 
with  his  Puseyite  rationalism." 

"  My  dear  Helen,  excuse  me;  but  Puseyites  are 
never  rationalistic  in  their  tendencies.  You  might  as 
well  accuse  Baptist  Noel  of  preaching  Mormonism !" 

""Well,"  returned  Helen,  pettishly,  "I  know 
nothing  about  different  sects,  and  I  don't  care  to 


NEW   FATHS.  245 

know.  All  I  know  is  this,  the  old  man  is  coming- 
back  to  Harrop  Yicarage,  and  of  course  Arthur  will 
have  to  go  away,  and  he  has  been  offered  the  curacy 
of  Specleton,  but  that  is  only  fifty  pounds  a-year !  " 

"  Well !  "  interrupted  Katty,  rather  unceremo- 
niously, for  she  discerned  tears  in  Helen's  voice. 
"  You  have  not  told  us  yet  what  has  happened,  and 
I  am  dying  of  curiosity  to  hear." 

" Bertha  is  going  to  be  married!"  was  Helen's 
answer,  given  with  a  gravity  and  a  solemnity  befit- 
ting the  occasion.  "  Granville  Golding  was  here 
while  you  were  out." 

"  Granville  Golding!"  returned  Alfred,  "and 
what  has  he  to  do  with  Bertha  ?  I  suppose  she  is 
not  going  to  marry  him  /  " 

"  But  she  is  though  ;  they  are  engaged  now,  and 
Bertha  will  come  home  directly,  and  they  will  be 
married  as  soon  as  her  trousseau  is  ready." 

<  <  Granville  Golding ! "  cried  Katty.  ' '  Why,  Helen, 
you  must  be  dreaming !  Bertha  never  quite  liked 
the  Goldings,  she  never  could  forgive  them  for  their 
antecedents,  and  I  am  sure  when  she  went  away  she 
cared  nothing  about  Granville,  and  I  did  think  she 
liked  Eric." 

"  And  I  am  quite  sure  Eric  liked  her,"  inter- 
rupted Alfred  ;  "  he  as  good  as  told  me  so  the  day 
before  they  left  Oldminster.  Ay,  and  it  was  some- 
thing more  than  liking,  if  my  eyes,  and  ears,  and  my 
sixth  sense  especially,  did  not  play  me  false." 


246  THE   LILLINGSTOKES. 

"Eric  did  like  her,  and  he  has  proposed,  and  she 
has  refused  him  ;  and  that  is  one  reason  why  she  will 
he  at  home  directly." 

"  Refused  Eric  !  is  it  possible !  Why,  he  is  worth 
twenty  Granville  Goldings.  Not  hut  what  Granville 
is  a  very  good  fellow,  and  as  for  the  stumbling-block 
of  his  grandfather's  mill  and  farm,  I  don't  care  a 
rap  about  it.  But  Bertha !  that  is  a  different 
thing.  It  was  but  the  other  day  that  she  denied 
Flora  Golding's  claims  to  gentle  blood,  and  she 
declared  that  not  one  Golding  of  them  all  was  really 
a  gentleman ! — and  now — to  think  she  is  ready  and 
willing  to  transmute  herself  into  a  Golding!  I 
cannot  believe  it,  and  I  never  shall,  till  I  see  her 
and  Granville  walking  to  church  arm-in-arm,  like 
all  respectable  true  lovers  should." 

And  then  Mrs.  Lillingstone  came  down,  and  Katty 
and  Alfred  eagerly  appealed  to  her  to  know  what 
Granville  Golding  had  said. 

"Why,  my  dears,  he  behaved  very  nicely,  very 
nicely,  indeed.  It  seems  he  has  been  in  love  with 
dear  Bertha  for  a  long  time,  only  he  thought  there 
was  no  hope ;  but  lately  some  one  has  left  him  an 
immense  fortune.  He  is  far  richer  than  Sir  John 
Harrop,  Katty;  and  he  said,  now  that  he  had  a 
home  to  offer  her,  worthy  of  her  rank  and  of  her 
personal  claims,  he  ventured  to  speak — and — and  he 
said  a  great  deal  that  I  -cannot  exactly  remember. 
His  father  and  mother  sanction  the  match,  and 


NEW   PATHS.  247 

Flora  wishes  it  with,  all  her  heart,  and  Bertha  her- 
self has  accepted  him,  provided  I  make  no  objec- 
tion." 

"And  you  will  not,  mother?"  said  Alfred. 
* '  Well !  I  really  believe  Granville  Golding  is  as 
good  and  as  nice  a  fellow  as  ever  breathed." 

"!N"o!  I  see  no  reasonable  ground  of  objection, 
my  dear,  though  I  must  own  I  am  surprised  at 
Bertha.  It  always  seemed  to  me  that  she  despised 
the  Goldings,  especially  since  her  visit  to  Harrop 
Court." 

"  Ah !  but  Granville  Golding  was  not  a  millionnaire 
in  those  days,"  replied  Alfred  dryly. 

"Alfred,  you  ought  not  to  say  such  things!" 
said  Katty  vehemently.  "  I  am  sure  if  Bertha  had 
not  liked  Granville  Golding,  the  change  in  his  cir- 
cumstances would  not  have  determined  her.  You 
are  always  too  hard  upon  Bertha." 

"  Am  I  ?  Well,  perhaps  I  am.  I  believe  I  had 
very  uncharitable  thoughts  just  then ;  but  I  will  try 
to  think  better  of  it,  and  when  Bertha  comes  back 
you  shall  see  how  well  I  will  behave.  Indeed,"  he 
added  sadly,  '  *  of  all  people,  I  have  no  right  to 
play  the  censor,  seeing  what  a  fool  I  have  made  of 
myself  in  the  face  of  all  Oldminster.  Bertha  cannot 
be  more  inconsistent  than  I  have  been.  When  I 
recall  the  prospects  and  the  resolutions  of  last 
Christmas,  and  then  revert  to  the  carelessness  and 
the  foolishness  of  the  last  six  months,  I "  and 


248  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

his  voice  died  away,  overpowered  by  the  rising  tide 
of  regretful  emotion. 

Mrs.  Lillingstone  could  not  bear  to  see  her  son's 
sorrow,  and  she  hastened  to  change  the  current  of 
his  thoughts  by  speaking  of  Bertha's  letter,  which 
Granville  had  shown  her,  and  which  she  had  read 
over  several  times,  and  remembered  pretty  accu- 
rately. It  was  a  model  of  a  letter — maidenly, 
frank,  simple,  and  yet  most  elegantly  worded,  and 
the  references  to  her  mother's  judgment,  and  to  the 
feelings  of  his  own  family,  were  most  charmingly 
expressed.  Nothing  could  exceed  the  propriety  and 
the  ladylike  good  sense  of  Bertha's  second  letter  to 
her  rich  suitor ;  the  one  which  she  wrote  after  her 
rejection  of  Eric's  addresses,  and  after  she  had  had 
time  to  consider  the  matter  well  and  impartially, 
and  to  weigh  her  decision  as  carefully  as  so  impor- 
tant an  affair  demanded.  Granville  was  charmed 
with  the  letter,  and  his  mother  and  father  little 
less  so. 

But  Katty  went  to  bed  that  night  like  one  in  a 
dream,  and  Helen  philosophised  sadly  enough  on  the 
power  of  riches.  Here  was  Bertha — who,  she  was 
sure,  would  not  break  her  heart  if  Granville  were 
killed  to-morrow — going  to  be  married  immediately, 
going  to  have  everything  she  wanted,  and  all  for 
money — dirty,  contemptible,  tyrant  money !  Whereas 
she  and  Arthur,  who  loved  each  other  as  no  true  lovers 
had  ever  loved  before,  must  wear  out  the  best  years 


NEW    PATHS.  249 

of  their  life  in  waiting  for  the  merest  competency 
which  would  permit  them  to  enter  on  the  holy  estate 
of  matrimony.  But  then,  thought  poor  Helen  (and 
she  comforted  herself  greatly  with  the  reflection),  it 
is  only  "  the  course  of  true  love  that  never  did  run 
smooth  !  "  And  she  felt  a  great  pity,  mingled  witli 
contempt,  and  almost  horror,  of  Bertha's  proceedings. 

A  day  or  two  after,  Katty  was  once  more  startled 
out  of  the  wonted  composure,  that,  after  the  shock  of 
Alfred's  failure,  and  the  announcement  of  Bertha's 
engagement,  was  slowly  and  imperceptibly  returning. 
Alfred  had  been  out  all  morning  and  all  afternoon, 
and  in  the  evening  he  called  Katty  to  come  and 
walk  with  him  in  the  Minster-fields.  She  gladly 
obeyed,  for  she  was  tired  with  sewing  and  reading, 
and  the  evening  was  charmingly  bright  and  cool ; 
the  day  had  been  overpoweringly  hot.  For  some 
minutes  they  strolled  along  by  the  side  of  the  river, 
almost  in  silence,  and  Katty  seemed  intent  on 
watching  the  blue  dragon-flies  that  flitted  hither 
and  thither  among  the  reeds. 

Alfred  broke  the  silence  first.  ' '  Well,  old  Kittums, 
do  you  know  why  I  brought  you  here  ?  " 

"  "No.  But  I  suppose  you  want  to  have  a  talk 
with  me." 

"That  is  it  exactly.  I  have  something  to  tell 
you ;  I  want  to  talk  it  over  with  you  first,  before  I 
speak  to  the  others.  Katty,  I  have  made  up  my 
mind  what  to  do !  " 


250  THE   LILLLNGSTONES. 

"  Have  you  ?" 

"Yes.  It  was  Granville  Golding's  notion;  and 
I  have  been  with,  his  father  for  some  hours.  Katty, 
I  have  made  up  my  mind  to  go  into  business." 

"  You,  Alfred!  I  thought  you  hated  business — 
and  you  know  there  never  was  a  Lillingstone  in 
business  yet." 

"  Then  there  will  be  a  novelty  to  record  in  the 
family  annals;  for  I  am  going  to  Liverpool,  in 
October,  to  be  a  merchant's  clerk.  Mr.  Golding  has 
a  brother  there,  one  of  the  first  merchants  in  the 
place,  and  it  is  the  height  of  my  ambition  to  secure 
a  high  stool  in  his  counting-house." 

Katty  looked  incredulously.  "  You  cannot  like 
it,  Alfred  ?  " 

"No;  I  cannot  say  that  I  do;  but,  Katty  dear, 
I  have  lived  years  since  I  lost  the  scholarship  three 
days  ago.  I  have  been  looking  my  position  in  the 
face  as  calmly  and  as  critically  as  I  can,  and  it 
seems  to  me — at  least  I  begin  to  think — that  perhaps 
it  will  turn  out  a  good  thing  that  I  did  not  gain 
what  I  had  set  my  heart  on.  I  don't  quite  see 
what  1  could  have  done  had  I  won  all  the  honours 
of  the  University.  I  might  have  done  something 
for  myself,  no  doubt;  but  that  would  never  have 
contented  me.  It  was  no  boyish  vaunt  when  I  said 
that  I  would  be  master  of  Lillingstone  once  more. 
I  mean  it,  Katty.  If  God  will  grant  his  blessing,  I 
mean  to  work  on,  till  I  see  my  mother  in  her  old 


NEW  PATHS.  251 

house ;  I  don't  say  my  sisters,  for  the  experience  of 
the  last  few  weeks  convinces  me  that  long  ere 
Lillingstone  be  redeemed  they  will,  one  and  all,  have 
chosen  other  homes,  and  formed  other  ties.  But, 
Katty,  I  see  now  I  wanted  a  pulling  up.  I  needed 
some  great  trouble,  for  I  had  grown  proud,  and  con- 
ceited, and  careless ;  last  winter's  laurels  made  me 
vain-glorious;  and  worse  than  that,  Katty  —  for 
many  months  I  had  almost  left  off  caring  for  those 
things  that  you  and  Milly  care  for  most — the  ONE 
THING  did  not  come  first ;  no,  nor  second,  nor  third, 
I  am  afraid ;  but  anywhere,  or  nowhere,  and  at  the 
best,  last  of  all.  Ever  since  I  came  to  Oldminster  I 
have  been  looking  forward  to  the  scholarship.  I 
knew  that  I  was  not  seeking  first  the  kingdom  of 
God  and  His  righteousness ;  but  1  thought  when 
once  I  had  gained  my  point,  I  should  feel  differently. 
And  now  the  scholarship  is  lost,  and  as  far  as  regards 
my  future  plans,  I  am  not  a  step  forwarder  than 
when  I  left  Lillingstone." 

" Don't  say  that,  Alfred  dear;  these  two  years 
will  turn  to  good  in  some  way  or  other.  Every 
little  link  in  the  chain  of  life  is  so  important  that  it 
cannot  be  dispensed  with.  Depend  upon  it  the  time 
has  not  been  wasted." 

"  It  has  taught  me  one  thing,  what  a  poor,  weak 
creature  I  am.  It  has  shown  me  that  the  mere 
resolve  to  lead  a  religious  life  is  nothing  in  itself; 
that  even  the  ordinances  of  the  Church  are  nothing 


252  THE    LILLINGSTONES. 

— a  mere  dead  form — unless  the  heart  is  right  with 
God  through  faith  in  His  Son." 

"  But  you  have  had  faith  ?  " 

"A  dead  faith,  Katty;  and  the  faith  that  can 
turn  prayer  and  praise  into  channels  of  blessing 
must  he  a  living  faith.  "No  •  I  have  made  a  mis- 
take, the  greatest  that  a  man  can  make ;  I  thought 
to  seek  equally  the  glory  of  this  world  and  the  bliss 
of  the  world  to  come.  It  cannot  be  ;  God  will  have 
all  the  heart,  or  none ;  we  cannot  serve  God  and 
Mammon." 

"  And  will  there  not  be  the  temptation  in  busi- 
ness to  make  that  supreme  ?  " 

"  I  am  sure  there  will.  But,  Katty,  there  is  this 
difference  ;  I  no  longer  trust  myself,  and  /  look  to  be 
helped.  I  hope  to  be  a  thorough  man  of  business,  as 
thorough  a  merchant  as  ever  trod  the  busy  quays  of 
Liverpool;  and  I  mean,  Deo  volente,  to  work  hard, 
and,  if  possible,  to  love  my  work ;  but  I  hope,  also, 
that  I  shall  never  make  a  god  of  my  business.  Oh, 
Katty !  my  failure  here  has  been  very,  very  painful  ; 
no  one  but  God  will  ever  know  how  bitter  it  was  to 
come  home  that  night  with  my  ruined  hopes,  and 
my  dead  aspirations,  and,  worst  of  all,  my  self- 
reproach  ;  but  it  was  all  for  good — for  my  soul's 
good.  I  needed  discipline,  and  God  sent  it  in  kind- 
ness and  in  love.  And  now — now,  if  He  will  help 
one  and  give  me  His  Blessed  Spirit,  I  do  think  I  shall 
go  on  my  way  with  a  purer  heart  and  a  truer  aim  M 


NEW   PATHS.  253 

Katty's  eyes  were  full  of  tears  as  she  pressed  her 
brother's  arm.  "  And  mamma  ?"  she  said  ;  "  you  do 
not  think  mamma  will  object  to  this  business  plan?" 

"I  think  not,  when  I  explain  to  her  all  that  is 
in  my  mind ;  she  will  not  like  it  at  first,  I  know. 
And,  Katty,  don't  think  that  there  is  any  degrada- 
tion in  honest  labour.  If  it  became  my  duty  to 
break  stones,  or  to  carry  a  hod  of  mortar,  I  should 
not  be  the  worse  for  doing  it.  I  shall  not  be  the 
less  a  gentleman  on  my  high  stool  in  a  Liverpool 
counting-house,  than  I  should  have  been  lounging 
in  cap  and  gown  down  the  High  Street  of  Oxford. 
Broadcloth  can't  make  a  man ;  and  a  lawful  calling 
can't  unmake  a  gentleman." 

"  Xo,  indeed  !  I  was  very  silly,  very  wrong,  to 
say  what  I  did  about  the  Lillingstones  never  having 
been  in  business.  And  with  such  feelings  I  am 
sure  you  will  succeed." 

"  I  hope  so.  But,  Katty,  I  cannot  tell  you  how 
much  I  distrust  myself ;  a  minute  ago  I  felt  strong, 
find  almost  confident,  now  I  am  all  despondence, 
and  the  long  vista  of  coming  years  seems  dreary, 
empty,  and  dark.  Say  something  to  cheer  me." 

"  Listen  ;  here  is  the  best  cordial  for  care  :  '  De- 
light thyself  also  in  the  Lord,  and  He  shall  give 
thee  tlie  desires  of  thy  heart.  Commit  thy  way 
unto  the  Lord  ;  trust  also  in  Him,  and  He  shall  bring 
it  to  pass.  Best  in  the  Lord,  and  wait  patiently  for 
Him.'  " 


254  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

FAMILY    PARTINGS. 

IT  was  a  brilliant  September  morning,  clear,  calm, 
and  soft ;  and  a  pleasant  breeze  came  up  the  valley 
to  the  old  town  of  Oldminster,  lightly  fluttering  the 
leaves  of  the  sycamores  in  the^  Minster-meadows, 
and  just  whispering  gently  in  the  dark  pine  woods 
that  sloped  upwards  from  the  river,  far  away  to  the 
foot  of  the  hills.  There  was  great  stir  that  sunny 
morning  in  the  ancient,  and  usually  sober-minded 
town,  and  the  stir  culminated  in  one  of  the  principal 
houses  of  the  High  Street.  It  was  Miss  JBertha 
Lillingstone's  wedding-day ! 

Yery  lovely  looked  the  young  bride  in  her  snowy 
robes,  and  her  snowy  coronal,  and  her  long  flowing 
veil ;  and  a  fairer  bevy  of  bridesmaids  was  never 
seen  than  the  four  Lillingstone  sisters,  Flora  Gold- 
ing,  and  the  little  Mary  Herbert,  Alice's  fast  friend 
and  favourite  companion ;  and  the  long,  old-fashioned 
dining-room  was  filled  now  to  Bertha's  satisfaction ; 
for  the  Lillingstones  and  the  Goldings  were  a  host 


FAMILY   PARTINGS.  255 

in  themselves,  and  there  were  Sir  John  and  Lady 
Harrop,  and  Arthur  Lascelles,  and  the  Herberts, 
and  Dr.  Armstrong  and  his  lady,  and  two  or  three 
special  friends  of  Alfred's,  who  were  invited  in 
order  that  there  might  be  an  equal  number  of  ladies 
and  gentlemen ;  for  Eertha  was  duly  solicitous  that 
each  one  of  her  fair  bridesmaids,  and  indeed,  every 
lady  present,  either  married  or  single,  should  be 
provided  with  a  suitable  cavalier. 

The  day  before  the  wedding  had  been  a  very  busy 
one.  From  sun-rise  till  midnight  the  sisters  had 
toiled,  and  planned,  and  arranged,  and  Eertha  her- 
self had  been  the  guiding  spirit  of  the  household. 
Early  in  the  day  there  was  packing  to  be  done,  and 
fifty  little  things  to  be  finished ;  and  after  the  early 
dinner  came  the  rehearsal  of  the  next  morning's 
breakfast ;  and  great  was  the  confusion  of  tongues, 
and  the  diversity  of  ideas,  respecting  the  position  of 
tables,  people,  dishes,  and  bouquets.  Eertha  at  last 
took  the  matter  in  her  own  hands ;  she  had  the 
dining-room  cleared  of  all  superfluous  furniture,  and 
the  tables  arranged  there  and  then,  so  as  to  accom- 
modate the  wedding-guests  most  conveniently,  and 
to  afford  the  largest  space  for  the  necessary  attend- 
ants. Then  she  took  a  sheet  of  paper,  and  pen  and 
ink,  and  proceeded  to  make  a  plan  of  the  table, 
writing  the  name  of  each  person  in  the  place  where 
it  was  desirable  that  he  or  she  should  sit. 

The  coupling  of  the  ladies  and  their  beaux  was 


256  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

not  quite  so  easy.  Scheme  as  she  would,  Bertha 
found  that  the  elderly  married  gentlemen  were,  for 
the  most  part,  apportioned  to  the  young  ladies,  and 
the  young  gentlemen  bracketed  with  the  matrons; 
and  this  was  only  to  be  obviated  by  assigning  the 
married  ladies  to  their  own  liege  lords — an  expe- 
dient which  Mrs.  Lillingstone  declared  was  not  to 
be  thought  of.  Arthur  Lascelles  naturally  fell  to 
the  share  of  Helen,  and  Katty  petitioned  for  Mr. 
Herbert ;  but  everybody  refused  upon  any  terms  to 
sit  at  the  breakfast-table  as  the  property  of  Dr. 
Armstrong.  It  was  tea-time  before  the  momentous 
question  was  settled,  and  then  Bertha  had  it  all 
nicely  arranged  in  black  and  white,  the  first  rough 
copy  being  consigned  to  the  waste-paper  basket. 

Helen  and  Mildred  were  left  alone  for  a  little 
while,  with  an  injunction  to  count  the  gloves  and 
the  packets  of  stamped  and  fancy  envelopes.  But 
Helen,  after  languidly  examining  a  dozen  of  gloves 
marked  "six  and  three-quarters,"  and,  finding  them, 
for  the  most  part,  "sevens,"  pushed  the  box  away, 
declaring  she  had_  no  patience  to  overlook  the  rest. 
Mildred  was  laboriously  sorting  out  the  stationery, 
and  she  looked  up  inquiringly. 

"No,  Milly!  I  have  no  more  patience!"  said 
Helen.  "I  have  no  patience  with  Bertha;  these 
trumpery  adjuncts  of  a  wedding  occupy  her  atten- 
tion infinitely  more  than  the  wedding  itself.  I 
always  thought  it  was  a  very  solemn  thing  to  be 


FAMILY   PARTINGS.  257 

married,  but  Bertha  makes  nothing  of  it ;  she  is  as 
self-possessed,  and  as  full  of  important  trifles,  as  if 
she  were  not  going  to  play  the  principal  part  in 
to-morrow  morning's  drama.  Oh,  it  is  pitiful,  it , 
is  miserable,  to  have  no  heart !  I  would  rather  wait 
for  Arthur  till  I  am  forty,  and  feel  as  I  do,  than 
marry  to-morrow  with  Bertha's  splendid  prospects, 
and  Bertha's  feelings  !  " 

"  Of  course  you  would.  Who  would  not  ?  "  said 
Mildred,  emphatically.  "  But  still,  Helen,  we 
cannot  tell  what  Bertha  really  feels ;  she  may  be 
very  fond  of  Granville  without  showing  it ;  surely, 
she  must  be,  or  she  never  would  have  accepted  him 
so  readily  when  she  might  have  had  Eric." 

"  Eond  of  him !  I  hate  that  phrase,  Hilly ;  it  is 
like  the  French,  who  '  aime '  their  lovers  and  their 
poodle-dogs  in  the  same  breath.  One  may  be  fond  of 
cheesecakes,  or  fond  of  marabout  feathers ;  but  fond, 
and,  no  more,  of  the  man  you  mean  to  marry,  is  past 
decency,  and  past  common  sense." 

"  I  think  if  I  were  going  to  be  married  I  should 
feel  very  differently,"  said  Mildred,  gravely. 

"  To  be  sure  you  would ! "  replied  Helen,  warmly. 
"  You  would  be  thinking  of  your  lover,  your  hus- 
band that  would  soon  be  ;  you  would  be  thinking  of 
the  happiness  of  being  his  so  long  as  life  lasted; 
you  would  not  be  thinking  of  possible  tableaux,  and 
lace  and  flowers,  and  cold  chicken  ! " 

''No,   indeed!      I    should  be  thinking  of   the 


258  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

great  and  solemn  step  I  was  about  to  take.  I  should 
be  thinking  of  the  new  duties  that  lay  before  me, 
and  wondering  whether  I  should  ever  be  able  to  per- 
form them  aright.  And  then  I  should  be  hoping  so 
fervently  that  God's  blessing  would  be  on  it  all!  Yes; 
I  am  sure  marriage  is  a  very,  very  senous  thing !  " 

All  this  was  a  little  beyond  Helen.  She  held  that 
love,  pure,  fervent,  undivided  love,  was  requisite,  in 
order  to  form  a  pure  and  holy  union,  such  as  God 
would  bless ;  and  she  was  right,  essentially  right ! 
But  it  never  occurred  to  her  to  contemplate  the 
duties,  the  responsibilities  to  which  that  wedded 
love  must  inevitably  lead.  Her  ideas  of  marriage 
were  like  the  majority  of  story-books ;  they  termi- 
nated blissfully  at  the  altar;  the  cares  and  the 
anxieties  of  the  life  beyond  her  bridal- day  never 
entered  her  imagination,  or  were  so  overlaid  with 
flowers  and  poetry,  grey  church  walls,  ivy-mantled 
towers,  rose-wreathed  rectories,  and  pretty  nick- 
nacks,  that  they  lost  their  real  aspect,  as  does  a 
common-place  landscape,  when  looked  upon  through 
the  medium  of  amber  or  rose-coloured  glass. 

Helen  and  Mildred  were  called  away  by  the 
arrival  of  something  like  a  cart-load  of  flowers  from 
Harrop,  and  for  a  long  time  everybody  was  busy  in 
admiring  and  grouping,  and  finally  placing  them 
in  water,  in  order  to  preserve  them  fresh  for  the 
morning. 

The  wedding  passed  off  with  all  possible  eclat ! 


FAMILY   PARTINGS.  259 

The  day  was  lovely ;  no  untoward  little  accidents, 
no  provoking  mistakes  occurred — how  should  they 
when  Bertha  was  the  presiding  genius?  And  the 
ceremony  was  beautifully  performed  by  the  Rev. 
Edward  Herbert,  M.A..  Rector  of  Oldminster,  as- 
sisted by  the  Rev.  Arthur  Lascelles  and  the  Rev. 
John  Golding,  a  distant  relation,  and  the  first  clergy- 
man in  the  Golding  family.  Crimson  cloth  was  laid 
down  from  the  church-gates  to  the  porch,  lest  per- 
chance the  autumnal  morning  should  prove  damp ; 
and  the  walk  was  lined  with  eager  spectators  that 
seemed  to  include  all  the  lower  population  of  Old- 
minster.  Bertha  walked  up  the  aisle  on  her 
brother's  arm,  the  very  personification  of  a  lovely, 
modest  English  bride ;  she  made  the  responses 
clearly  and  sweetly,  but  her  voice  never  faltered; 
once  only,  Mildred,  who  watched  her  closely,  saw 
the  colour  come  and  go  in  her  beautiful  face,  and 
the  snowy  hand  tremble,  as  it  rested  in  her  bride- 
groom's tender  clasp,  and  it  was  when  Mr.  Herbert 
said,  "  I  pronounce  them  man  and  wife,  in  the 
name  of  the  Father,  and  of  the  Son,  and  of  the 
Holy  Ghost!" 

And  Milly  felt  then  that  Bertha  was  her  own  dear 
sister,  and  that  she  was  going  away  from  her  old 
home,  and  that  henceforth  she  would  be  theirs  no 
longer ;  and  do  what  she  would,  the  tears  would 
come,  and  Helen  and  her  mother  had  already  been 
quietly  crying,  so  that  the  wedding  did  not  pass  off 
s2 


260  THE  LILLINGSTONES. 

without  the  indispensable  adjunct  of  a  little  weep- 
ing. Then  came  the  signing  in  the  vestry,  and 
Mildred  very  nearly  committed  the  blunder  of 
signing  Jierself  "  Mildred  Golding,"  and  she  finished 
up  by  the  largest  blot  the  register  had  ever  seen. 
The  school-children  strewed  flowers  along  the 
crimson-covered  path,  and  Bertha's  first  step  was  on 
some  pretty  feathery  clematis,  that  Helen  longed  to 
snatch  up  and  place  in  her  own  bouquet,  while 
Granville  crushed  a  handsome  yellow  dahlia,  to  the 
infinite  regret  of  his  father,  who  was  a  dahlia 
fancier,  and  a  celebrated  amateur  flower  grower. 

The  wedding  breakfast  was  just  what  wedding 
breakfasts  usually  are ;  there  were  the  usual 
speeches,  and  compliments,  and  jokes,  and  poor 
Helen  was  made  very  nervous  by  the  advice  which 
she  received  from  Mr.  Golding,  senior,  that  she 
should  follow  her  sister's  example  as  speedily  as 
possible."  Ah  !  it  was  all  very  well  to  talk ;  but 
how  could  people  marry  upon  fifty  pounds  a  year  ? 
and  that  was  Arthur's  income  just  now ;  for,  in 
default  of  anything  better,  he  had  concluded  to 
accept  the  pitiful  Specleton  curacy. 

And  then  came  the  leave  taking,  and  the  depar- 
ture of  the  happy  couple ;  and  at  the  last  moment 
Sarah  came  forward  with  a  white  favour,  the  size 
of  a  prize  cauliflower,  and  a  basketful  of  old  shoes, 
which  were  sent  over  the  carriage  with  so  good  an 
aim,  that  the  whole  opposite  pavement  was  strewn 


FAMILY  PARTINGS.  261 

therewith.  And  amid  this  shower  of  dilapidated 
shoes,  and  the  waving  of  hands  and  handkerchiefs, 
and  the  cheers  of  the  juvenile  townsfolk,  and  the 
loud  clanging  of  the  Minster  bells,  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Granville  Golding  drove  away  to  the  railway  station 
at  Fleetbridge,  where  they  took  train  for  Birming- 
ham, and  thence  for  London:  from  London  going 
on  to  Paris,  and  from  Paris  to  Strasbourg,  and  so 
through  Germany  and  Switzerland,  till  they  finally 
rested  on  the  shores  of  Lago  Maggiore. 

And  so  Bertha  Lillingstone  was  "  wooed  and 
married  and  aM  " 

And  now  it  was  Alfred's  turn  to  depart.  With 
some  little  difficulty  he  had  won  over  his  mother  to 
consent  to  his  going  to  Liverpool,  and  he  had  tarried 
so  long  only  on  account  of  the  wedding;  the 
interim,  however,  had  been  spent  in  learning  the 
mysteries  of  book-keeping,  and  in  such  studies  as 
might  be  useful  in  his  future  sphere.  An  acquaint- 
ance with  the  Spanish  language,  and  a  thorough 
knowledge  of  French,  were  strenuously  recommended 
by  the  merchant,  Mr.  Golding,  who  came  to  Old- 
minster  for  his  nephew's  wedding,  and  was  charmed 
with  the  whole  Lillingstone  family,  and  with  Alfred 
in  particular. 

On  the  evening  before  the  journey  which  the 
merchant  in  esse  and  the  merchant  in  posse  were  to 
take  together,  Kate  and  Alfred  had  their  last  talk. 
Mrs.  Lillingstone  and  the  others  had  gone  to  bed, 


262  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

and  the  "brother  and  sister  remained  crrer  the  draw- 
ing-room fire,  which  had  been  kindled  to  enliven 
the  damp,  chilly  evening,  for  the  weather  had 
changed  since  the  day  of  the  wedding. 

"And  you  don't  regret,  now  that  the  time  is 
come  ?  "  said  Katty,  holding,  or  rather  hugging  up, 
Alfred's  hand,  most  affectionately. 

"No,  Katty!  the  longer  I  reflect  upon  it,  the 
more  satisfied  I  feel.  I  really  believe  God  calls  me 
to  this  path;  but  it  is  an  untried  path,  and  there 
will  be  many  dangers  and  many  temptations." 

"  But  God  will  be  in  the  busy  world,  dear  Alfred, 
as  much  as  in  our  quiet  home.  And  you  will  trust 
to  Him  to  lead  and  keep  you  right,  and  to  give  you 
strength  to  withstand  the  evils  that  will  probably 
surround  you." 

' l 1  hope  so,  Katty  !  I  have  had  enough  of  trust- 
ing to  myself.  I  wish,  though — it  is  a  foolish 
effeminate  sort  of  wish,  but  I  can't  help  it — I  wish 
I  need  not  leave  home  in  order  to  work  out  my 
plans." 

"You  would  have  to  do  that  in  any  case;  even 
had  you  gone  to  Oxford,  you  would  have  been  very 
much  away ;  and  eventually  you  must  have  resided 
elsewhere.  It  would  be  very  difficult  to  make  one's 
fortune  in  Oldniinster,  I  think  !  " 

"  So  difficult  as  to  be  nearly  impossible ; — for  me, 
quite  impossible.  But,  Katty,  you'll  always  re- 
member me  on  Sundays,  and  at  night  and  morning?" 


FAMILY   PARTINGS.  263 

Katty's  only  rejoinder  was  an  emphatic  squeeze 
of  the  hand,  she  could  not  trust  herself  to  say  a 
word. 

Alfred  went  on,  "  And,  Katty,  do  try  to  make 
Helen  see  that  I  am  not  in  any  way  lowering  myself. 
I  don't  care  for  '  people  J  but  it  hurts  me  that  one  of 
my  own  sisters  should  think  I  am.  doing  that  which 
is  unworthy  of  a  Lillingstone.  Try  to  make  her 
see,  that  honest  labour  is  not,  and  ne^er  can  be, 
disgrace  ;  make  her  understand  the  dignity  of  win- 
ning a  good  day's  wages  by  a  good  day's  work. 
One  must  have  money,  more  or  less,  in  this  world ; 
and  if  I  cannot  enjoy  the  hoards  of  my  ancestors, 
or  the  lawful  inneritance  of  the  Lillingstones,  am  I 
unworthy  of  my  birth,  of  my  name,  because  I  seek 
by  honest  and  honourable  work  to  gain  the  means  of 
living  a  civilised  life,  and,  if  it  may  be,  to  win  back 
the  diverted  inheritance  of  my  family  ?  " 

"  ETo,  no,  indeed !  "  cried  Katty,  warmly. 

She  was  beginning  to  see  things  as  they  are,  and 
to  estimate  rank,  position,  and  descent  at  their  true 
value.  She  had  been  working  hard  herself  for  two 
long  years;  but  then  it  was  at  home,  and  no  one 
saw  it.  With  a  man  it  was  very  different ;  if  he 
became  a  tradesman  the  world  must  know  it,  and 
there  were  those  of  his  own  standing  with  whom  he 
would  inevitably  lose  caste. 

But  now,  the  brother  and  sister  were  brave  to- 
gether ;  they  believed  in  the  dignity  of  human 


264  THE  LILLINGSTONES. 

labour,  and  they  were  willing  to  forfeit  the  con- 
sideration, and  to  lose  the  smiles  of  some  whom  they 
knew,  because  they  felt  they  were  treading  in  duty's 
inflexible  paths,  and  because  they  trusted  that  God's 
blessing  was  with  them,  and  that  He  was  guiding 
their  steps,  and  in  His  almighty  wisdom  and  in  His 
love,  leading  them  through  the  troublous  paths  of 
that  world  to  the  haven  where  they  would  be. 


PART   II. 


PART   II. 


CHAPTER    I. 

THE    SISTERS. 

"  Do  you  know  that  I  shall  be  twenty  next  week  ?  " 
asked  Mildred,  one  sunshiny  spring  morning,  as  she 
sat  with  her  sisters  in  the  dining-room. 

"  Is  it  possible  ?  "  asked  Katty,  looking  comically 
grave ;  "  then  I  must  be  nearly  twenty-six,  since  it 
is  an  indubitable  fact  that  I  am  six  years  your 
senior.  How  old  I  am  getting — quite  a  spinster  !  " 

"  Ah,  but  you  look  bonnier  and  younger  than  you 
did  when  Bertha  was  married,  you  old  darling !  " 
said  Mildred,  starting  up  to  fling  her  arms  round 
her  sister's  neck,  very  much  in  her  old-fashioned, 
boisterous,  Lillingstone  style.  "  /  think  you  wear 
better  than  any  of  us." 

Which  was  an  indisputable  fact.  Katharine 
Lillingstone  looked  handsomer,  and  almost  younger, 
than  when  we  first  saw  her  in  the  old  school-room  at 
Lillingstone.  Years  had  dealt  kindly  with  her,  for 
they  had  matured  her  graces,  and  left  an  added 


268  THE  ULLINGSTONES. 

sweetness  on  her  sensible,  gentle  face,  while  they 
had  taken  nothing  from  the  freshness  of  her  early 
bloom.  Katty's  fair,  calm  countenance  was  the 
index  of  her  mind ;  the  peace  of  God,  which  passeth 
all  understanding,  reigned  in  her  heart,  and  on  her 
quiet  brow  ;  the  light  that  shone  so  clearly  and  so 
steadily  in  her  deep,  thoughtful  blue  eyes,  was  the 
reflex  of  an  inner  light  that  came  from  no  terres- 
trial source.  Long  ago,  on  that  first  Sunday  at 
Oldminster,  Katty  had  "  found  her  rest ;"  and  since 
that  happy,  thrice-blessed  Sabbath,  there  had  been 
almost  unclouded  sunshine  in  her  soul.  She  was  one 
of  those  over  whom  the  petty  cares  and  the  minor 
evils  of  life  had  little  sway;  lost  wealth,  changes 
of  circumstances,  faded  honours,  were  almost  nothing 
to  her ;  it  was  not  in  her  nature  highly  to  estimate 
mere  externals,  and  she  seemed,  as  Mildred  said,  to 
be  constantly  living  out  two  favourite  lines  of  hers — 

"  Content  to  fill  a  little  space, 
If  Thou  be  glorified!" 

Let  us  look  at  the  other  inmates  of  the  room,  and 
see  if  they,  too,  are  the  fairer  and  the  better  for  the 
flight  of  time.  Who  is  that  faded-looking  lady, 
with  the  dark,  pensive  eyes,  and  the  long  raven 
ringlets  ?  She  is  pale,  even  sallow ;  her  cheek  has 
lost  not  only  the  roses,  but  the  roundness,  of  youth ; 
it  is  thin  and  hollow.  Weakness  and  attenuation  of 
body  have  robbed  her  of  many  natural  graces ;  she 
stoops  sadly,  and  there  is  a  fretful,  weary  expres- 


THE   SISTERS.  269 

sion  on  features  worn  and  hardened  by  lines  of  care, 
yet  still  beautiful  in  themselves.  She  looks  full 
thirty  years  of  age.  And  can  this  be  the  once 
elegant  and  blooming  Helen  Lillingstone  ? 

Yes !  It  is  indeed  Helen,  from  whose  sad  face  all 
the  brightness  and  colouring  of  youth  have  faded 
away !  She  is  still,  nominally,  the  betrothed  of  the 
Eev.  Arthur  Lascelles ;  but  the  young  clergyman 
seems  in  little  haste  to  claim  his  long  promised 
bride.  Indeed,  until  lately,  he  has  not  been  in 
circumstances  to  think  of  marriage ;  prudence  has 
compelled  him  to  tardiness ;  and  now  that  better  days 
are  evidently  forthcoming,  he  is  cold  and  negligent, 
and  his  letters  are  constrained,  filled  with  mere 
commonplaces,  and  few  and  far  between.  And 
poor  Helen  has  slowly  and  sorrowfully  learned  the 
truth  of  the  ancient  aphorism,  that  "hope  deferred 
maketh  the  heart  sick." 

That  girlish  love  of  hers  had  been  no  passing 
fancy,  no  common  attachment ;  all  the  deep  passion 
of  her  poetic  and  most  passionate  temperament  had 
been,  and  still  was,  concentrated  in  its  unfathomable 
depths.  She  loved  Arthur  Lascelles  with  all  the 
ardour  and  fervour  of  her  loving,  undisciplined  heart. 
Romantic,  unpractical,  even  silly,  Helen  might  be, 
and  certainly  sometimes  was;  but  she  had  a  true 
woman's  nature  after  all,  and  her  love  was  pure  and 
faithful,  and  holy  in  its  patience,  and  in  all  its  un- 
wavering, devoted  trust. 


270  THE   LILLTNGSTONES. 

For  two  years  after  Bertha's  marriage,  Arthur 
had  remained  at  Specleton ;  then  came  an  opening 
from  a  source  to  which  he  had  long  ceased  to  look, 
as  to  the  probable  promotion  of  his  interests.  A 
nobleman,  between  whose  family  and  his  own  there 
was  remote  consanguinity,  invited  him  to  become 
the  pastor  of  a  small  episcopal  chapel  in  his  own 
park,  which  said  chapel,  indeed,  served  his  lordship's 
dependents,  and  the  villagers  in  general,  instead 
of  their  parish  church,  which  was  situated  at  a  most 
inconvenient  distance ;  he  was  also  to  assume  the 
office  of  domestic  chaplain  in  the  earPs  household. 
!N"ow,  Lord  Southcombe  had  several  livings,  more  or 
less  valuable,  in  his  gift,  and  Arthur  naturally  hoped 
that  one  of  these,  when  vacant,  would  surely  fall  to 
his  own  share ;  and  these  hopes,  as  we  shall  see, 
were  by  no  means  presumptuous  or  unfounded. 

Arthur's  departure  for  Devonshire  was  a  sore  trial 
to  Helen ;  but  as  she  fervently  trusted  their  separa- 
tion was  but  a  necessary  preliminary  to  their  future 
and  permanent  union,  she  bore  up  with  tolerable 
fortitude,  and  tried  to  comfort  herself  with  sunny 
visions  of  the  long-deferred  hope  at  last  fulfilled ; 
and  in  this  frame  of  mind  she  once  more  addressed 
"herself  to  the  manipulation  of  Lady  Harrop's  long 
neglected  gift. 

It  may  be  asked  why  Sir  John  Harrop  did  not 
redeem  his  pledge  by  presenting  to  his  young  friend 
some  snug  little  living,  or  perpetual  curacy  ?  It 


THE   SISTERS.  271 

happened  in  this  wise — things  went  all  "  con" 
trairy"  as  our  housemaids  feelingly  express  them- 
selves. Sir  John  had  no  direct  patronage,  but  he 
had  some  influence  in  high  quarters  ;  and  just  when 
that  influence  might  have  been  most  availing,  there 
was  a  change  in  the  government,  and  Sir  John's 
friends  were  sent  to  the  right-about.  Then  he 
managed  to  fall  out  with  a  certain  bishop  of  his 
acquaintance,  who  might,  had  he  been  so  minded, 
have  conferred  all  kinds  of  spiritual  preferment  and 
temporal  advantages  on  poor  luckless  Arthur ;  and, 
finally,  he  fell  into  an  impaired  state  of  health,  and 
was  ordered  abroad  by  some  half-dozen  eminent 
physicians,  whom  he  feed  and  consulted.  So  it 
came  to  pass  that  Harrop  Court  was  shut  up,  while 
its  master  and  mistress  lived  on,  happily  enough,  in 
Homan  and  Florentine  palaces,  and  by  degrees  the 
correspondence  between  Lady  Harrop  and  the  Lil- 
lingstones  languished,  and  Sir  John,  absorbed  in 
classic  scenes  and  antiquarian  pursuits,  gradually 
allowed  the  interests  of  Arthur  Lascelles  to  slip 
away  from  his  memories  of  home. 

And  now  several  years  had  elapsed  since  Mr.  Las- 
celles went  to  live  at  Southcombe,  and  during  that 
period  he  had  paid  but  one  visit  to  Oldminster,  when 
every  one  said  he  was  grown  quite  stout  and  hand- 
some, and  more  agreeable  than  ever.  And  poof 
Helen,  alas!  was  faded,  and  looked  full  of  care, 
and  was  not  quite  so  amiable  as  in  those  youthful 


272  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

romantic  days,  when  he  had  first  wooed  her  to  be 
his,  in  the  pleasant  Harrop-lanes.  Bertha  would 
have  had  Helen  under  her  own  auspices  in  town, 
and  once  she  did  prevail  upon  her  to  come  up  to 
London  and  remain  her  guest  during  the  most  bril- 
liant week  of  the  season  ;  but  Helen  was  listless  and 
indisposed,  and  her  faded  charms  failed  to  attract 
the  many  eligibles  who  daily  and  nightly  were  to  be 
found  disporting  themselves  in  Mrs.  Granville  Gold- 
ing's  splendid  mansion.  Bertha  tormented  her  to 
break  off  her  long  protracted  engagement,  telling 
her  that  womanly  pride  forbade  her  any  longer  to 
nourish  an  attachment  for  one  who  evidently  cared 
very  little  about  her ;  and  Alfred  seriously  advised 
that,  in  one  way  or  another,  the  affair  should  be 
terminated.  But  Helen  would  not  listen  either  to 
brother  or  sister ;  neither  would  she  permit  Alfred 
to  interfere  by  seeking,  as  he  proposed,  an  interview, 
and  a  consequent  explanation  with  her  tardy  suitor ; 
she  fretted  on,  trying  to  believe  in  her  lover's  good 
faith,  and  hoping  against  hope  that  all  would  bo 
right  at  last.  And  so  matters  stood  on  the  day, 
when  after  the  lapse  of  more  than  four  years  we 
once  more  see  the  Lillingstone  family  in  their  old- 
fashioned  dining-room  at  Oldminster. 

And  Mildred — is  she  also  changed  ?  Yes ;  de- 
cidedly for  the  better.  She  has  ceased  growing,  and 
her  form  is  developed,  and  she  pokes  no  longer,  and 
pays  a  due  regard  to  her  personal  appearance.  She 


THE   SISTERS.  273 

never  be  really  handsome ;  but  she  is  considered 
to  be  a  fine-looking  young  woman,  and  everybody  in 
Oldminster,  and  for  several  miles  round  it,  whether 
young  or  old,  gentle  or  simple,  loves  "Miss  Milly." 

" En-avant"  is  still  her  motto;  she  has  been 
steadily  going  onwards  ever  since  she  left  Lilling- 
stone,  and  her  progress  is  in  the  right  direction. 
Her  nature  is  fervent  and  impetuous  as  ever,  full  of 
noble  fire  and  generous  spirit ;  she  is  unselfish 
always,  straightforward  in  action,  quaint  in  speech, 
and  strikingly  original  in  thought.  Those  who 
ki)ow  Mildred  Lillingstone  best,  say  that  converse 
with  her  is  one  of  their  greatest  pleasures,  and  thev 
cannot  fail  to  recognise  the  mingled  strength  and 
sweetness  of  her  character,  and  the  vigorous  clear- 
ness of  her  intellect.  Only  Bertha  will  not  do  her 
justice ;  and  that  is  not  to  be  wondered  at,  for  she 
cannot  appreciate  the  thorough  unworldliness  of 
Mildred's  spirit,  and  she  sometimes  hears  from  her 
unpalatable  truths,  which  no  one  else  ventures  to 
utter  in  her  hearing. 

Walter  is  doing  very  well  at  the  Grammar  School, 
and  Alice  is  growing  up  clever  and  extremely  pretty ; 
she  seems  likely  to  rival  Bertha  in  point  of  beauty, 
by-and-by.  Mrs.  Lillingstone  is  still  delicate,  but 
her  health  has  greatly  improved ;  and  Katty  tells 
her  she  will  be  a  stout  old  woman  yet !  She  is 
gentle  as  ever,  with  the  same  poetic  tastes  and 
romantic  tendencies,  and  she  has  the  same  habit  a» 
T 


274  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

heretofore,  of  depending  on  her  daughters  in  every 
emergency ;  she  really  has  no  will  of  her  own,  and 
it  is  well  for  her  that  she  is  in  the  loving  hands  of 
two  such  sensible,  dutiful  children,  as  Katharine 
and  Mildred. 

"  I  really  think  we  ought  to  celebrate  your  birth- 
day," said  Katharine,  when  Milly  sat  down  again  to 
her  painting.  "  What  shall  we  do,  Helen,  it  is  not 
quite  warm  enough  for  a  pic-nic  ?  " 

"Is  it  not?"  returned  Helen,  languidly.  "I 
thought  it  felt  quite  hot  this  morning." 

"Yes,  in  the  sun;  but  it  would  be  scarcely  pru- 
dent to  sit  out  of  doors  at  this  early  season,  besides, 
the  weather  in  April  is  not  to  be  depended  on." 

"Well!  what  can  we  do?" 

"Suppose  we  make  a  journey  to  Fleetbridge," 
said  Mildred  ;  "it  will  be  neither  difficult  nor  expen- 
sive, now  we  have  the  railway :  we  can  do  what 
Sarah  calls  '  a  vast  of  shopping,'  and  there  is  a 
picture  exhibiting  there  that  I  particularly  wish  to 
see." 

"  What  do  you  say,  Helen?  "  asked  Katty. 

"  Ah,  go  by  all  manner  of  means,  you  and  Milly, 
and  Alice ;  I  shall  stay  with  mamma ;  I  am  not  well 
enough  to  go  anywhere." 

"Indeed,  Helen  dear,  I  know  you  are  not  at  all 
well,"  returned  Mildred;  "but  I  do  think  a  little 
more  exercise. would  do  you  good;  the  journey  to 
Fleetbridge  is  not  fatiguing,  and  I  am  sure  mamma 


THE   SISTERS.  275 

would  not  mind  staying  at  home  by  herself.  "Why, 
we  might  even  persuade  her  to  go  with  us  ;  she  was 
talking  only  yesterday  of  several  things  she  wanted, 
and  could  not  procure  in  the  shops  here.  Come, 
Helen  dear,  make  up  your  mind  and  help  us  to  coax 
mamma,  and  let  us  all  go  together;  we  shall  do 
grand  things,  I  am  persuaded.  I  confess  to  feeling 
most  extravagantly  minded." 

"  Ah,  I  know  !  "  cried  Katty ;  "I  know  exactly 
what  your  extravagant  fits  are  like ;  you  will  buy 
something  for  everybody;  you  will  give  Davies  a 
magnificent  order  for  tracts  and  school-books,  and 
then  you  will  come  home  with  your  purse  empty, 
and  just  half  the  things  you  really  require  for  your- 
self." 

"  I  don't  know,  Katty — I  mean  to  have  a  bran 
new  silk  dress  this  spring  ;  I  have  not  had  one  since 
Bertha  was  married." 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  it.  But,  Milly,  don't  let  it  be 
like  the  dress  in  the  'Daisy  Chain,'  the  colour  of  a 
copper  tea-kettle  just  where  it  is  turning  purple. 
Do  you  know,  I  think  Ethel  May  is  not  a  little  like 
you." 

"Do  you?  I  am  sure  I  ought  to  feel  greatly 
flattered.  But  seriously,  she  was  so  very  good,  and 
so  clever,  that  I  should  be  ashamed  to  compare  my- 
self with  her.  Look  at  her  Cocksmoor,  and  look  at 
my  Hasleslack  visitations.  And  then  consider  her 
Latin  and  Greek — why,  I  only  know  the  Greek 
T  2 


276  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

alphabet,  and  can  scarcely  struggle  through  a  page 
of  Virgil  without  help." 

"  Ah,  but  there  is  your  German  and  Spanish  and 
Italian,  to  say  nothing  of  French,  which  I  suppose  is 
too  common  to  be  of  any  account  now-a-days." 

"  Oh,  living  tongues  are  not  at  all  imposing.  In 
order  to  make  a  sensation,  one  ought  to  know 
several  dead  languages,  the  deader  the  better.  If  I 
only  understood  Hebrew  now,  and  Sanscrit,  and  old 
Sclavonic,  or  that  ancient  quichua  dialect  of  the 
aboriginal  Peruvians !  But  you  care  nothing  about 
my  dress,  that  I  am  to  buy  on  my  birthday,  of 
all  days  in  the  year.  Helen,  what  shall  it  be  ? 
Katty  protests  against  copper-colour,  shot  with 
purple,  though,  like  that  sensible  Etheldred,  I  think 
it  would  prove  very  serviceable.  Shall  it  be  snuff- 
brown,  or  mazarin  blue,  or  delicate  rose-pink?" 

"  Well,  rose-pink  is  rather  gay  in  silk ;  but  never 
wear  blue — leave  that  to  Katty  and  Alice." 

"  And  you  will  go  with  us,  and  give  us  the  benefit 
of  your  taste?  You  helped  me  to  buy  that  grey 
alpaca,  that  resists  my  utmost  endeavours  to  wear  it 
out.  Do  you  remember  that  day's  shopping,  Helen? 
it  will  be  three  years  ago,  in  August." 

Helen  sighed ;  she  made  no  answer.  Three  years 
ago  life  had  worn  its  fairest  aspects ;  and  now  all 
was  sadness  and  mystery  and  gloom. 

"No,"  she  said,  presently,  "  I  cannot  go  with 
you.  I  am  really  not  equal  to  it,  and  Kotty  will 


THE   SISTERS.  277 

advise  you  about  your  dress  quite  as  well  and  better 
than  I  could." 

""Well,  we  can  get  that  cerise  ribbon  Miss  Binks 
said  you  must  have,  to  trim  up  your  muslin  jacket ; 
four  yards,  is  it  not  ?  " 

"  I  shall  not  have  any  fresh  trimming,  Milly; 
bright  colours  are  not  for  me  now.  I  ought  to  wear 
hues  as  faded  as  myself." 

"Nay,  now,"  said  Milly,  running  up  to  her, 
with  a  kiss  and  a  squeeze,  "  who  ever  heard  of  such 
a  thing  ?  You  are  not  faded  to  us,  darling ;  you 
are  our  own  old  Queen  of  Sparta  in  all  but  her 
good-for-nothingness !  And  we  mean  to  brighten 
you  up,  and  make  you  ever  so  bonnie,  by  the  time 
the  roses  come." 

"No,  no !  "  murmured  Helen:  "  no  more  bright- 
ness— no  more  roses  for  me !  " 

"  Ah,  but  Helen,  that  is  not  right,  not  wise,  you 
know.  Should  we  quarrel  with  the  sunshine  because 
the  flowers  are  dead?  Should  we  sicken  at  the 
murmuring  of  bees  and  streams  and  breezes,  because 
the  birds  have  ceased  to  sing  ?  There  is  something 
so  pityful  in  giving  one's  self  up  to  die  of  a  broken 
heart !  there  is  something  so  grand  in  endurance,  in 
patient  waiting,  in  steadfast  trust !  " 

"Ah,  Milly,  I  have  trusted  till  I  can  trust  no 
longer!  It  is  six  weeks  to-day  since  I  heard  from 
Arthur.  Here  is  the  letter ;  read  it,  Milly,  it  will 
not  take  you  long." 


278  THE   LILL1NGSTONES. 

"  But — do  you  like  me  to  read  it  ?  "  asked  Hilly 
in  some  surprise ;  it  seemed  to  her  that  a  iove-lettei 
must  be  so  sacred  a  thing. 

"  Yes,  yes !  "  was  the  answer  ;  "  anybody  might 
read  it." 

Mildred  read  it.  She  need  not  have  hesitated ; 
there  was  nothing  in  it  that  might  not  have  been 
proclaimed  in  the  market-place,  so  far  as  Helen's 
delicacy  was  concerned.  It  was  very  short,  but 
Mildred  lingered  over  it.  She  had  so  wished  to  see 
a  love-letter,  and  was  this  a  specimen  ?  Certainly, 
it  began  with  "my  dearest  Helen,"  and  ended  with 
"  yours  affectionately,"  but  all  that  came  between 
was  cold  and  unloverlike  in  the  extreme.  Milly 
thought  he  dared  not  subscribe  himself  "  yours  faith- 
fully." 

"  Well,  what  do  you  think  of  it  ?  "  asked  Helen, 
as  Mildred  silently  gave  it  back.  Katty  and  Alice 
had  gone  away,  and  they  two  were  alone  now. 

"  I  don't  like  it,"  said  Mildred  honestly.  "  I 
am  afraid  you  will  think  me  unkind  ;  but  it  seems 
to  me — only  I  am  not  much  of  a  judge  in  these 
matters — that  he  writes  because  he  feels  he  must, 
and  not  because  he  likes  it." 

"That  is  it,"  returned  Helen  bitterly.  "And 
now,  I  suppose,  he  does  not  even  acknowledge  the 
'  must.7  Milly,  you  are  clever — tell  me  what  I 
ought  to  do  ?  This  suspense  is  killing  me  !  What 
would  you  do  in  my  place  ?  " 


THE   SISTERS.  279 

"I  would  write  to  Arthur  a  plain,  straight- 
forward letter,  asking  for  a  plain,  straightforward 
answer.  I  would  know  why  he  is  cold  and  negli- 
gent. I  would  not  make  womanish  complaints,  or 
fill  ray  letter  with  reproaches  ;  hut  I  would  say  that 
I  remained  unaltered ;  yet,  if  he  felt  that  my  affec- 
tion was  no  longer  essential  to  his  happiness,  it 
would  he  hetter  for  both  of  us  that  the  engagement 
should  he  relinquished.  I  would  say  this,  Helen, 
kindly  hut  firmly,  and  in  such  plain  words  that 
there  could  not  possihly  he  any  misunderstanding." 

"  He  would  give  me  up  in  a  moment,"  groaned 
poor  Helen. 

"Then  let  him  give  you  up,  darling;  he  is  not 
worthy  of  the  riches  of  your  love.  Besides,  you  would 
have  the  satisfaction  of  having  asked  for  release." 

"And  what  would  the  world  he  to, me  after- 
wards?" 

"  A  place  of  much  true  happiness,  I  hope,  in 
time — in  time,  Helen  dear!  Ah,  darling,  I  wish 
you  had  something  better  and  nobler  and  more  en- 
during, to  fill  that  poor,  yearning  heart  of  yours !" 

"  What  can  be  better  than  true,  unselfish  love 
— love  that  lives  on  in  misery  and  in  sadness,  never 
changing,  never  wavering — such  love  as  mine,  Milly  ? 
For  God,  who  knows  how  faulty  and  foolish  and 
worldly  I  am,  knows  also  that  herein  I  never  fail." 

"  Earthly  love  alone,  Helen,  never  satisfied  any 
human  soul ;  there  are  depths  in  the  human  heart 


280  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

that  only  One  love  can  fill,  and  that  love,  my  dear 
sister,  passeth  knowledge.  We  shall  never  know  all 
its  fulness,  all  its  tenderness,  all  its  glory,  till  we 
see  *  face  to  face/  and  know  even  as  we  are  known." 

"Milly,  you  talk  like  a  child,  like  a  saint,  but 
not  like  a  woman.  Your  heart  has  never  been 
touched ;  you  know  nothing  of  the  strength  and 
joy  and  sorrow  of  earthly  love.  Some  day,  Milly, 
it  may  be  otherwise.'* 

Eut  Milly  made  no  answer ;  she  looked  steadily 
down  the  street  at  the  confectioner's  boy  delivering 
tea-cakes,  and  her  cheeks  and  brows  and  even  her 
neck  were  all  one  glow  of  burning  crimson. 


BROKEN  TIES.  281 


CHAPTER  II. 

BBOKEN   TIES. 

"  I  HAVE  made  up  my  mind,  Milly ;  I  shall  do  as 
you  advised  me,"  said  Helen,  on  the  following  day. 
"  I  have  spoken  to  mamma,  and  she  says  you  are 
quite  right,  and  I  had  better  write  as  you  said." 

"I  am  glad  mamma  approves;  I  should  not  like 
you  to  act  solely  on  my  counsel." 

"  Yes,  I  shall  write  at  once.  There  is  no  letter 
again  this  morning.  Oh,  Milly,  anything  would  be 
easier  to  bear  than  this  miserable  suspense !  " 

And  Helen  did  write  ;  but  many  were  the  sheets 
she  covered  and  threw  aside  before  she  could  finish 
a  letter  to  her  own  satisfaction.  It  was  written  in 
the  solitude  of  her  own  chamber,  and  many  were 
the  tears  it  cost ;  but  at  length  it  was  closed  and 
directed,  and  Helen  came  down  to  tea,  calmer  than 
she  had  been  for  some  days,  but  looking  so  pale  and 
heart- stricken  that  her  mother  and  sisters  could 
scarcely  conceal  their  distress. 

When  the  time  came  for  an  answer,  th.o  agony  of 


282  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

expectation  was  nearly  intolerable.  "Not  Helen 
only,  but  Katty  and  Mildred  and  Mrs.  Lilling- 
stone,  watched  with  mingled  dread  and  longing  the 
morning  and  afternoon  approach  of  the  postman. 
But  several  days  passed  away,  and  the  anxiously 
expected  letter  did  not  arrive.  Helen's  feverish 
agitation  hourly  increased,  and  Mildred  and  Katty 
exchanged  indignant  reniarks  whenever  they  were 
quite  alone. 

Mildred's  birthday  arrived,  and  she,  with  Katha- 
rine and  Alice,  paid  the  projected  visit  to  Eleetbridge. 
It  was  not  a  very  pleasant  day,  for  the  wind  was 
high  and  keen,  and  towards  noon  the  sun  ceased  to 
shine,  and  was  hidden  behind  heavy,  cold,  grey 
clouds  ;  the  dust,  too,  was  most  annoying,  and  as  it 
happened  to  be  market-day  at  Pleetbridge,  there  was 
rather  more  bustle  in  the  streets  than  was  altogether 
agreeable  to  persons  accustomed  to  the  quiet,  sombre 
respectability  of  Oldminster  pavements. 

Nevertheless  the  sisters  managed  to  enjoy  them- 
selves extremely,  for  there  were  so  many  pretty 
things  to  be  seen  in  the  shop -windows,  and  so  much 
to  be  bought  for  money,  that  they  found  no  leisure 
and  little  inclination  to  deplore  the  inconveniences 
of  jostling  throngs,  clouds  of  dust,  and  a  prevailing 
north-east  wind,  that  was  in  no  wise  the  beautifier 
of  their  complexions.  There  were  many  purchases 
to  make ;  and  Milly  verified  Katty 's  predictions  by 
buying  a  new  book  for  her  mamma,  a  pretty  neck  hand- 


BROKEN   TIES.  283 

kerchief — the  milliner  called  it  a  fichu — for  Helen,  a 
silver  thimble  for  Alice,  a  smart  cap  for  Sarah, 
a  porte-monnaie  of  wonderful  capacity  for  "Walter, 
a  heap  of  little  books  for  gratuitous  distribution, 
and  a  pair  of  French  kid  gloves  that  Katty  shrewdly 
suspected  were  destined  to  become  her  property. 
Mildred's  new  dress,  also,  was  duly  chosen  and 
bought,  and  it  was  neither  copper-colour,  nor  rose- 
pink,  nor  unbecoming  blue,  but  green  and  black 
glace,  with  what  the  shopman  called  "  a  magnificent 
face,"  and,  as  Katty  assured  herself,  both  by  touch 
and  by  vision,  of  excellent  material  and  handsome 
appearance.  Katty  also  bought  herself  a  very  pretty 
spring  bonnet,  and  ordered  one  for  Alice,  and  they 
all  amused  themselves  with  anticipating  the  brilliant 
figures  they  were  going  to  make  in  their  own  quiet, 
old-fashioned  little  town.  And  Katty  decided  that 
Helen  must  have  a  bonnet  like  her  own,  only  a  little 
handsomer,  and  that  mamma  must  have  her  Leghorn 
altered  to  the  fashion,  and  newly  trimmed.  And 
then  they  went  to  the  confectioner's  to  dine,  and 
Katty  would  treat  Milly  with  macaroons,  because  it 
was  her  birthday — it  being  privately  understood 
that  macaroons  were  Milly 's  weakness ;  and  they 
bought  oranges  and  lemon-drops  and  drawing  ma- 
terials, and  they  visited  the  picture-gallery,  and  had 
an  excellent  view  of  the  painting  Mildred  had  so 
much  desired  to  see  ;  and,  finally,  they  spent  half  an 
hour  in  the  museum  of  the  Town  Hall.  And  then 


284  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

they  discovered  that  it  was  very  cold,  and,  having 
concluded  their  business,  agreed  that  it  would  be 
better  to  return  at  once  to  the  station,  and  await  the 
arrival  of  their  train  within  shelter  of  the  comfort- 
able ladies' -room 

Their  brief  journey  was  soon  accomplished,  and 
they  found  Oldminster  no  warmer  than  Fleetbridge. 
Of  a  dusky  grey  were  the  hills  and  the  moors,  and 
steely  grey  was  the  cold  sky,  and  grey  was  the 
winding  river,  and  grey  the  desolate  marsh-land 
through  which  the  train  approached  the  town. 

"  What  does  this  remind  you  of  ?  "  asked  Mildred, 
as  they  sped  along  the  embankment. 

"Of  everything  that  is  sad  and  desolate  and 
weary, ' '  said  Katty.  "  Of  a  dull,  grey  life — life 
without  love,  without  hope,  on  this  side  the  grave. 
The  whole  world  looks  cold  and  dreary." 

"I  was  thinking  of  one  of  Tennyson's  picture- 
verses.  How  is  it,  I  wonder,  that  in  reading  his 
poems,  you  derive  not  only  the  pleasure  which  truly 
good,  fine  poetry  must  always  give,  but  that  which 
you  receive  from  viewing  a  perfect  picture,  artistic  in 
its  design,  and  exquisite  in  all  its  details  ?  Tennyson 
is  a  very  pre-Raphaelite  among  poets." 

"  I  remember  the  time  when  you  did  not  care  for 
Tennyson." 

"  Ah,  my  mind  had  not  grown  up  to  him  then. 
I  care  for  him  now,  more  and  more,  every  year  I 
live.  But  I  still  have  no  fancy  for  *  Claribel,'  and 


BROKEN   TIES.  285 

I  do  not  much  mind  for  *  Lilian,'  or  for  *  Made- 
line,1 or  *  Adeline.'  I  wish  he  had  not  coquetted 
with  so  many  ladies." 

"And  you  like  him  now  as  well  as  your  old 
favourite,  Longfellow  ?  " 

"Yes;  that  is,  I  like  them  in  different  ways; 
they  cannot  be  compared.  One  worships  Tennyson 
as  one  learns  to  understand  him  ;  but  any  one  who 
has  once  loved  Longfellow,  will  love  him  always. 
Tennyson  steals  upon  your  affections;  Longfellow 
charms  you  even  in  your  premiere  jeunesse,  and 
charms  you  for  ever." 

"  And  what  were  the  lines  you  were  thinking  of  ?  " 

"These:  — 

'  The  plain  was  grassy,  wild  and  bare, 
Wide,  wild,  and  open  to  the  air, 
Which  had  built  up  everywhere 

An  imder-roof  of  doleful  grey. 

It  was  the  middle  of  the  day; 

Even  the  weary  wind  went  on, 

And  took  the  reed-tops  as  it  went. 

Some  blue  peaks  in  the  distance  rose, 

And  white  against  the  cold  white  sky, 

Shone  out  their  crowning  snows. 
One  willow  over  the  river  wept, 
And  shook  the  wave  as  the  wind  did  sigh ; 

Above  in  the  wind  was  the  swallow, 

Chasing  itself  at  its  own  wild  will, 
And  far  through  the  marish,  green  and  still. 

The  tangled  watercourses  slept, 
Shot  over  with  purple,  and  green,  and  yellow !  * 

"  Exactly  the  scene  around  us  ;  only  instead  of  one 


286  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

willow,  there  are  many.  And  see,  snow  has  fallen 
again  on  the  Endleboro'  Pikes,  making  the  similitude 
perfect.  But  I  do  not  remember  the  lines.  Where 
do  they  occur  ?  " 

"In  *  The  Dying  Swan.'  It  is  one  of  my  great 
favourites ;  so  fine  a  specimen  of  word-painting.  But 
I  believe  many  people  think  it  stupid — half  queer 
and  half  mystical.  But  look,  we  have  passed  the 
marsh-lands;  we  are  in  our  own  beauteous  valley 
again,  which,  however,  is  not  seen  to  advantage  to- 
day. And  here  is  the  station.  I  am  glad  we  are  at 
home." 

The  Oldminster  streets  were  almost  deserted ;  the 
market-square  was  silent  and  dusty,  and  the  cloisters 
dark  and  grim  ;  while  a  strong  blast  swept  down  the 
hills,  and  over  the  desolate  moors,  filling  the  whole 
valley  with  a  wearying,  soughing  sound,  that  fell 
dismally  on  the  ear,  like  the  wail  of  an  indignant 
banshee.  The  sisters  were  glad  to  find  themselves 
standing  before  their  own  door,  ringing  the  bell,  and 
paying  the  porter  who  had  carried  up  their  parcels 
from  the  station. 

"  "Where  is  mamma?  "  asked  Katty,  as  she  looked 
into  the  unoccupied  drawing-room. 

"  Well,  she's  just  stepped  down  the  town,"  re- 
plied Sarah.  "  Mr.  Herbert  sent  up  to  see  if  we  had 
any  cotton  wool,  for  there's  been  a  child  a' most  burnt 
to  death  in  Bongate  Lane,  and  missis  thought  we 
had  none ;  but  after  a  while  she  remembered  the 


BROKEN   TIES.  287 

old  bureau  in  the  top  room,  and  may  "be,  she  said, 
there  was  some  there,  for  there' d  used  to  be ;  and 
sure  enough  there  was  lots.  And  so  your  ma, 
Miss  Katty,  just  rolled  it  up,  and  tucked  it  under 
her  cloak,  and  went  right  away  down  to  Bongate, 
and  she  ain't  come  back  yet." 

"And  where  is  Helen,  I  wonder,"  said  Mildred. 
"  Surely  she  is  not  gone  with  mamma? " 

"Bless  you,  Miss  Milly,  no!  She'd  never  go  for 
to  put  her  head  out  of  doors  and  this  east  wind 
a-blowing  and  such  clouds  of  dust — I'm  sure  there 
isn't  a  room  in  the  house  fit  to  be  seen ;  and  I  can't 
help  it !  Miss  Helen  was  here  a  while  since ;  if  she 
isn't  in  the  dining-room  or  in  the  school-room,  she's 
gone  up-stairs,  I  suppose." 

Helen  was  not  in  either  dining-room  or  school- 
room ;  therefore  it  was  evident  she  was  not  down- 
stairs at  all.  They  went  up  to  take  off  their  bonnets, 
and  Katty  begged  Sarah  to  let  them  have  tea  as 
soon  as  her  mamma  came  back ;  and  Sarah  promised 
to  go  down  and  set  the  tray  that  moment,  adding 
that  she  had  made  them  some  pikelets  on  purpose, 
and  that  there  were  some  slices  of  ham  "  that  was 
only  a- waiting  to  be  cooked." 

They  were  nearly  ready  to  go  down  again,  when 
Mildred  was  seized  with  a  sudden  desire  to  present 
her  pretty  pink  and  white  fichu.  She  went  at  once, 
and  tapped  at  Helen's  door. 

There   was   a   low,   indistinct    "come   in/'  that 


288  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

sounded  to  Milly  almost  like  a  sob.  She  opened  the 
door,  and  there,  by  the  window,  sat  Helen,  looking 
like  a  person  suddenly  bereft  of  sense  and  reason. 
She  was  unnaturally  pale  and  unnaturally  motion- 
less ;  her  dark  eyes  were  tearless  indeed,  but  fixed 
and  stcny,  and  her  features  rigid  and  settled,  as 
though  chilled  by  the  iron  presence  of  Death  itself. 
There  was  something  awful  in  the  dull,  blank  aspect 
of  that  white,  expressionless  face. 

"  Helen,  Helen  dearest!  what  is  it?"  cried 
Mildred,  as  she  stood  beside  her,  holding  the  limp, 
passive  hand  that  lay  heavily  and  coldly  in  hers. 
"Tell  me,  darling,  what  it  is?  Who  has  been 
grieving  you?  "  And  she  took  Helen  in  her  arms 
and  rocked  her  to  and  fro  as  if  she  were  a  suffering 
child ;  but  Helen  seemed  paralysed,  and  she  moaned 
under  her  sister's  loving  embrace,  as  if  her  touch 
were  cruel  pain.  On  the  toilet  lay  an  open  letter, 
and  at  a  glance  Mildred  understood  what  had  hap- 
pened, for  she  recognised  the  well-known  hand- 
writing of  Arthur  Lascelles.  Again  she  spoke  to 
Helen,  begging  her  to  lie  down,  and  beseeching  her 
to  say  if  she  really  felt  very  ill ;  but  no  word  could 
she  extort  from  those  parched,  blanched  lips,  and 
Milly  began  to  believe  that  the  half  stifled  "come 
in"  must  have  been  the  delusion  of  her  own  fancy. 
At  length,  shocked  and  frightened,  she  went  to  call 
Katharine,  and  she  found  her  mamma  just  come  in, 
and  full  of  a  sad  tale  of  neglect  and  suffering  which 


BROKEN   TIES.  289 

she  had  just  been  hearing  from  Mrs.  Herbert.  "  It 
will  be  a  mercy  if  the  poor  little  child  dies  at  once, 
she  is  so  dreadfully  burned,"  Mrs.  Lillingstone  was 
saying,  when  Mildred,  with  a  face  nearly  as  colour- 
less as  the  one  she  had  left  up-stairs,  came  into  the 
drawing-room. 

"  MiUy !  Milly !  what  is  the  matter  ?  "  she  cried, 
breaking  off  abruptly  from  her  story. 

"Have  you  seen  Helen?"  asked  Mildred,  in  a 
tone  that  was  full  of  apprehension  —  almost  of 
horror. 

"  No — yes — that  is,  I  saw  her  before  I  went  out. 
I  turned  back  to  borrow  her  Shetland  veil.  I  left 
her  reading  quite  comfortably.  Where  is  she  ?  " 

"  She  is  in  her  own  room.  Do  not  be  alarmed, 
dear  mamma,  but  I  think  she  has  had  a  letter 
while  you  were  away — the  letter  you  know.'1 

"  My  poor  child !  my  poor  wronged  Helen ! "  cried 
Mrs.  Lillingstone ;  "do  not  stop  me,  Milly  ;  I  must 
go  to  her  this  moment."  And  she  rushed  up-stairs, 
while  Milly  vainly  tried  to  prepare  her  for  the  state 
in  which  she  would  find  Helen. 

Katharine  and  Mildred  both  followed,  and  they 
found  their  mother  weeping  unrestrainedly  over  the 
cold  inanimate  form,  that  neither  spoke  nor  stirred, 
nor  seemed  conscious  of  her  presence. 

"Oh,  Katty,  she  will  die!"  whispered  Mrs.  Lil- 
lingstone, after  looking  for  a  few  moments  into  the 
wide-open,  rayless  eyes,  from  which  the  soul  seemed 

TJ 


290  THE   ULLINGSTONES. 

suddenly  to  have  departed.  "What  shall  we  do? 
Had  we  better  send  for  Dr.  Thwaites  ?  " 

"Let  us  get  her  to  bed,  mamma,'7  saidKatty; 
"she  is  frozen  with  staying  in  the  cold  so  long. 
Let  us  uiidress  her,  and  put  her  feet  in  hot  water, 
and  tell  Sarah  to  warm  her  bed ;  but  first  of  all,  we 
will  give  her  some  brandy  or  some  wine.  It  is  some 
sort  of  fit,  I  am  afraid ;  but  it  will  go  off  presently. 
Just  give  Milly  the  keys,  mamma  dear,  and  I  will 
call  Sarah." 

But  Katty  spoke  with  a  calmness  and  hopefulness 
she  was  far  from  feeling.  She  had  never  seen  any- 
thing so  deathlike  since  that  summer  evening,  years 
ago,  when  she  had  come  in  from  her  pleasant  walk, 
to  gaze  on  the  white,  rigid  face  of  her  dead  father, 
Sarah  flew  at  Milly 's  summons,  and  by  her  aid  all 
was  done  that  Katharine  had  advised,  yet  still  Helen 
lay  in  that  strange  and  terrible  trance,  and  they 
agreed  to  send  for  Dr.  Thwaites. 

He  came,  and  approved  of  the  treatment,  ordering 
it  to  be  continued.  He  said  at  once  that  she  had 
sustained  a  severe  shock ;  that  no  immediate  danger 
was  to  be  apprehended,  only  she  would  require  for 
some  time  constant  care  and  attention. 

It  was  some  hours  before  the  attack  went  off,  and 
not  till  then  did  the  sisters  and  their  mother  begin 
to  discuss  the  letter  which  had  originated  their  dis- 
tress. It  still  lay  on  the  table,  and  they  thought  it 
l;(.'Bt,  under  the  circumstances,  to  read  it,  without 


BKOKEN   TIES,  291 

any  reference  to  Helen  herself,  who  had  at  last  fallen 
into  a  quiet,  natural  sleep. 

So  they  carried  it  off  into  Mrs.  Lillingstone's  own 
room,  and  Mildred  read  it  aloud.  It  contained  a 
full,  even  eager  acceptance  of  Helen's  offer  of  release. 
Mr.  Lascelles  spoke  of  their  early  engagement  as  a 
"  youthful  dream,  a  boy  and  girl  fancy !  " 

"Boy  and  girl,  indeed!"  said  Mildred,  hotly 
"  Helen  might  be  considered  a  girl  at  nineteen  ;  but 
who  ever  heard  of  a  man  of  five-and-twenty,  a  gra- 
duate of  Cambridge,  and  a  clergyman  of  the  Church 
of  England,  in  full  orders,  being  called  a  boy  ?" 

The  writer  went  on  to  say,  that  he  had  long  been 
aware  he  was  not  calculated  to  make  a  woman  of 
Helen's  type  of  character  happy,  or  even  contented ; 
he  was  so  much  older,  and  life  to  him  wore  far 
different  aspects  from  those  it  had  assumed  in  those 
happy,  romantic  days  at  Harrop  Court,  almost  five 
years  ago.  He  had  different  views  now,  new  hopes, 
new  desires ;  and  Helen,  too,  he  believed,  was 
altered,  and  would  be  infinitely  happier,  freed  from 
ties  that  were  too  early  and  too  hastily  formed. 

And  then  came  what  Mildred  called  "a  rig- 
marole" about  everlasting  respect,  undying  esteem, 
fraternal  affection,  and  the  steadfast  friendship  which 
might  at  a  future  time  replace  the  impulsive  and 
thoughtless  love  of  other  days  !  And  the  epistle 
concluded  with  a  promise  to  send  back  immediately 
all  the  correspondence  he  had  preserved,  and  Helen's 
L  2 


292  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

likeness,  and  all  other  mementoes  of  the  broken 
contract ;  and  then  with  fervent  thanks  to  Helen 
for  breaking  the  engagement,  which  was  no  longer 
essential  to  the  happiness  or  prosperity  of  either, 
but  which  honour  forbade  him  to  renounce  without 
her  fullest  approbation,  he  closed  the  letter,  which 
Hilly  would  have  cast  at  once  into  the  fire,  had  not 
the  more  prudent  Katty  restrained  her. 

"It  is  abominable,  cruel,  wicked!"  said  Milly, 
still  looking  longingly  at  the  tempting  blaze.  "  He 
affects  to  misunderstand  every  word  she  says.  The 
engagement  no  longer  necessary  to  the  happiness  of 
either,  indeed !  How  dare  he  pen  so  atrocious  an 
untruth  ?  I  am  glad  of  one  thing  though — he  makes 
use  of  no  religious  phraseology;  he  gives  her  no 
cant  about  the  decrees  of  Providence  ;  there  is  not 
a  word  indicative  of  his  sacred  calling,  and  I  am 
glad  of  it.  It  would  have  been  too  disgusting,  too 
terrible,  to  impute  to  Providence  the  evils  caused  by 
his  own  hard-hearted  fickleness !  " 

"My  poor  Helen  !  "  sighed  the  mother;  "  I  fear 
I  am  not  blameless  in  this  matter.  I  consented 
much  too  readily  to  the  engagement.  I  thought 
only  of  my  child's  present  content,  and  I  never 
waited  to  ascertain  how  far  it  might  be  for  her 
future  happiness  to  become  the  betrothed  of  Arthur 
Lascelles.  And  yet;  five  years  ago — yes,  it  will 
be  five  years  in  June  since  she  came  home  from 
Harrop  Court,  and,  all  smiles  and  tears  and  blushes 


BROKEN  TIES.  293 

told  me  of  her  love — and  yet,  then  all  seemed  so 
bright  and  promising!  Arthur  was  so  devoted  to 
her,  so  attentive  to  me,  so  kind  to  all  of  you.  And 
till  within  the  last  eighteen  months,  I  never  saw 
any  reason  to  doubt  his  fidelity,  or  to  suspect  the 
wisdom  of  Helen's  choice. " 

"Well,  mamma,"  said  Katty,  "it  is  over  now. 
Arthur  has  been  cruel,  and,  I  think,  cowardly ;  but 
this  is  a  case  in  which  there  is  no  redress,  an  evil 
utterly  past  remedy ;  if  we  could,  and  if  we  would 
compel  him  to  ratify  the  engagement  he  was  once  so 
eager  to  conclude,  we  could  not  make  him  love  her 
again.  Nothing  remains  but  to  comfort  poor  Helen, 
and  to  try  and  divert  her  mind  from  dwelling  too 
intently  and  too  continuously  on  her  great  sorrow ; 
and  then,  mamma  dear,  we  know  it  has  not  hap- 
pened by  chance ;  painful  as  it  is,  and  hard  to  bear 
patiently,  it  must  be  for  Helen's  good  in  the  end  T 
We  may  console  ourselves  in  this  way,  though 
Arthur  may  not;  he  should  rather  remember  that 
it  is  written,  Tor  it  must  be  that  offences  will 
come,  but  woe  to  him  through  whom  they  come  ! '  ' 

"  Yes,  my  child,  I  know  it ;  but  I  cannot  quite 
feel  it  yet.  I  know  God  sends  trouble  to  make  us 
better  and  happier  in  the  end ;  but  I  dread  sorrow, 
and  above  all  this  sorrow,  which  for  some  time  I 
have  feared  might  come  upon  us.  Ah  !  my  Helen, 
if  your  mother  could  shield  you  from  suffering,  your 
poor  heart  should  be  at  rest  even  now !  " 

"It  will  be  at  rest  presently,"  said  Milly,  in  a 


294  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

low  voice ;  and  then,  seeing  the  look  of  terror  in  her 
mother's  tearful  eyes — "I  do  not  mean  at  rest  in 
the  fullest  meaning  of  the  word.  God  forbid  !  I 
mean  that  here,  in  this  world,  her  heart  will  rest 
from  its  sorrow ;  that  she  will  he  happy  yet,  and  full 
of  peace  and  joy  I " 

"I  do  not  know — I  cannot  tell,"  said  Mrs.  Lil- 
lingstone,  doubtfully. 

"Yes,  yes,  dear  mamma!  I  anticipate  the  day 
when  Helen's  heart  will  be  filled  with  a  joy  that 
nothing  can  take  away,  with  a  peace  which  the 
world  giveth  not,  which  passeth  all  understanding !" 

Mrs.  Lillingstone  looked  wistfully  at  the  two  ex- 
pressive faces :  there  was  Katty's  calm,  quiet  brow, 
that  told  of  the  peace  within,  and  there  was  the 
clear,  deep  light  shining  in  Mildred's  wonderful  eyes, 
that  spoke  of  faith  and  hope,  and  undying  love  and 

j°7! 

"  I  would  give  worlds  for  that  peace ! "  she  said, 
mournfully.  "  Oh !  for  the  rest  that  earthly  storms 
cannot  destroy !  Eut  where  shall  it  be  found  ?  " 

Half-timidly,  half-deprecatingly,  lest  her  mother 
should  think  she  assumed  the  office  of  teacher, 
Katty  opened  her  little  pocket  Testament,  and  pointed 
out  to  her  these  words — "  Come  unto  Me,  all  ye  that 
labour  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  1  will  give  you 
rest.  Take  My  yoke  upon  you  and  learn  of  Me,  for 
I  am  meek  and  lowly  in  heart,  and  ye  shall  find 
rest  unto  your  souls ;  for  My  yoke  is  easy,  and  My 
burden  is  light." 


SHADOWS.  295 


CHAPTEK  III. 

SHADOWS. 

IN  three  days  Helen  came  down-stairs  again,  and  to 
all  appearance  she  was  better  than  she  had  been  for 
many  weeks.  Things  began  to  subside  in  their 
ordinary  channels,  and  Arthur  Lascelles'  name  was 
mentioned  no  more  in  the  family  circle. 

But  there  was  a  cloud,  a  shade  of  sadness  on  the 
quiet  household,  a  shadow  deeper  and  more  abiding 
than  had  been  experienced  since  their  first  coming  to 
Oldminster.  Outwardly  there  was  little  change ; 
Helen  was  quieter,  but  she  could  scarcely  be  sadder, 
than  she  had  been  for  several  months ;  she  had  been 
irritable  and  nervous;  others  less  loving  and  more 
impartial  than  those  who  were  constantly  at  her 
side  might  have  called  her  cross.  Now,  she  was 
gentle  and  subdued,  and  there  was  a  touching  tone 
of  meek  patience  in  all  she  said  and  did ;  and  after 
the  first  few  days  she  ceased  entirely  to  speak  of  her 
sorrow,  or  of  him  by  whom  it  was  caused.  Mrs. 
Lillingstone  pursued  her  usual  tranquil  course  ;  but, 
unspoken  and  unrecognised,  there  was  a  great  and 


296  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

ever-present  fear  in  her  inmost  heart.  Katty  was 
"busy  as  was  her  wont  with  household  duties,  and 
Mildred  found  abundant  occupation  in  attending  to 
Alice's  education,  in  her  own  studies,  and  in  the 
manifold  labours  of  love  among  her  school-children 
and  the  poor  of  the  neighbourhood,  to  say  n'othing  of 
some  old  women  who  lived  on  the  borders  of  Hasle- 
slack  Moor,  and  who  always  counted  upon  a  regular 
hebdomadal  visit  from  Miss  Milly,  to  whom  they 
recounted  the  exact  progress  of  their  "  rheumatics," 
and  asthmas,  and  other  infirmities,  and  listened  in 
return  to  the  chapter  and  the  hymns  she  invariably 
read,  and  to  the  pleasant  remarks  that  as  invariably 
succeeded. 

But  once  or  twice  it  occurred  to  Katty  that  Mil- 
dred was  not  quite  so  bright  as  once  she  had  been, 
and  she  wondered  whether  there  was  anything 
further  than  Helen's  sorrow  to  dash  the  sunshine  of 
that  uniformly  cheerful  brow  and  eye.  She  decided 
that  there  could  be  nothing  else,  since  other  troubles 
they  had  none,  unless  it  were  a  secret,  unconfessed 
anxiety  about  Bertha — and  Milly  was  open  as  the 
noon-day. 

And  yet  Mildred  had  a  trouble  of  her  own — a 
quiet,  deep,  hidden  trouble,  that  no  one  in  her  own 
home  ever  suspected.  Only  Janet  Campbell — who 
was  endowed  with  wonderfully  acute  perceptions, 
especially  where  those  were  concerned  whom  she 
tenderly  loved,  as  she  did  her  cousin  Mildred — divined 


SHADOWS.  297 

her  secret — the  secret  which  she  flattered  herself  no 
one  in  tho  world  knew,  or  ever  would  know ;  and 
Janet  loved  her  all  the  better  for  the  discovery  she 
made.  Milly  had  visited  Strathallan  a  second  time, 
and  Janet  had  been  twice  at  Oldminster,  and  the  two 
girls,  though  very  dissimilar  in  many  respects,  had 
formed  a  friendship  of  the  closest  and  tenderest 
nature.  Still,  as  we  have  seen,  Milly  had  her  secret, 
and  kept  it ;  and  Janet  was  nearly  the  last  person 
in  the  world  to  whom  she  would  have  wished  to 
confide  it. 

Erom  the  beginning  of  June  till  late  in  the 
autumn  of  the  preceding  year,  Milly  and  Alice  had 
been  at  Strathallan.  Bertha's  name  was  seldom 
mentioned  there  ;  never  in  the  presence  of  Eric,  who 
was  wonderfully  changed  since  those  days  when  he 
had  taught  himself  to  look  upon  his  beautiful  cousin 
as  his  bride  elect,  and  the  future  lady  of  Strathallan. 
It  is  true  he  was  that  age  when  a  few  years  make 
more  difference  than  before  or  after — the  age  when  the 
last  lingering  traces  of  the  youth  disappear,  and  the 
principles  and  character  of  the  full-grown  man  begin 
to  develop  themselves  in  every  word  and  action  of 
the  daily  life.  But  Lady  Campbell  and  Janet  and 
Mildred  all  knew  that  other  changes  than  those  of 
the  mere  transitions  of  increasing  years  had  passed 
over  the  beloved  son  and  brother — the  cousin  so 
highly  esteemed,  so  reverentially  admired,  so  affec- 
tionately regarded. 


298  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

Eric  was  now  in  his  twenty-seventh  year,  and  it 
was  a  great  disappointment  to  his  father  that  he 
was  still  unmarried,  still  disengaged,  and,  worst  of 
all,  as  there  was  every  reason  to  believe,  still  un- 
attached. Sir  Allan  had  never  quite  forgiven 
Bertha ;  he  had  desired  his  wife  and  daughter  not 
to  speak  of  her  in  his  presence,  and  for  a  time  the 
very  name  of  Lillingstone  was  a  source  of  irritation 
and  chagrin.  Nevertheless,  the  Master  of  Strath- 
allan  was  a  just  man,  and  after  a  while  his  con- 
science rebuked  him  so  severely,  that  he  ceased  to 
blame  the  unoffending  relatives  of  his  offending 
niece,  and  he  became  willing,  and  even  anxious,  to 
accede  to  Janet's  earnest  request  that  she  might  pay 
another  visit  to  Oldminster,  and  bring  back  with  her 
her  favourite  Mildred  and  one  of  her  other  cousins. 

Helen  was  the  one  unanimously  chosen  to  ac- 
company Mildred ;  but  she  could  not  be  induced  to 
leave  home ;  she  was  half  hoping,  poor  girl,  half 
expecting  to  see  Arthur  in  the  course  of  the  summer, 
and  nothing  would  have  prevailed  upon  her  to  ab- 
sent herself  from  Oldminster  while  there  remained 
the  remotest  chance  of  the  fulfilment  of  her  long- 
cherished  desires.  So  Alice  went  to  Strathallan, 
for  Katty  had  been  in  town  with  Bertha,  and  at 
Cheltenham  with  Mrs.  Gaunt,  formerly  Miss  Flora 
Golding,  with  whom  they  had  all  been  very  intimate 
ever  since  Bertha's  marriage.  Alice  was  extremely 
happy  at  Strathallan,  and  she  had  no  idea  that  her 


SHADOWS.  299 

uncle  wouM  have  preferred  her  remaining  at  Old- 
minster,  or  anywhere  else,  solely  because  she  re- 
minded him  so  strongly  of  Bertha,  whom  indeed  she 
resembled  more  and  more  as  she  grew  older. 

Alice  was  rather  afraid  of  Eric ;  he  was  always 
kind  and  considerate,  but  "  so  grave,"  as  she  said  in 
her  first  letter  from  the  Highlands  to  her  friend 
Mary  Herbert.  And  she  often  caught  him  looking 
into  her  face  with  an  expression  of  mingled  pain 
and  pleasure  that  she  scarcely  knew  how  to  interpret, 
though  she  was  not  without  some  indistinct  notion 
of  the  feeling  with,  which  he  regarded  her,  for  she 
knew  that  at  times  she  was  startlingly  like  Bertha, 
and  she  knew  also  what  Bertha  had  once  been  to 
her  cousin  Eric,  which  knowledge,  it  must  be  re- 
marked, was  acquired  rather  by  inferences  than  by 
any  direct  communication  on  the  subject.  However, 
for  her  the  summer  glided  joyfully  away,  and  she 
left  Strathallan  with  undisguised  regret.  It  was  the 
end  of  October  when  they  once  more  found  them- 
selves in  the  familiar  High  Street  of  Oldminster. 

And  from  that  time  Mildred  had  been  keeping 
stern  watch  over  herself;  she  did  not  know,  till  the 
excitement  of  her  return  was  over,  how  much  of  her 
thoughts,  her  interests,  and  her  happiest  associations 
were  left  behind  her  at  Strathallan.  Morning,  noon, 
and  night,  she  found  herself  wondering  whether  Eric 
would  like  this,  and  disapprove  of  that ;  and  she  fell 
unconsciously  into  many  of  his  ways  of  thinking  and 


300  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

reasoning,  and  working  out  the  questions  which 
they  had  so  often  discussed  during  the  months  they 
had  spent  together  in  the  peaceful  retirement  of 
Strathallan.  And  then,  as  weeks  rolled  on,  and 
the  tide  of  daily  life  flowed  onwards  in  its  ordinary 
quiet  channels,  and  the  intercourse  that  had  been  so 
sweet  grew  more  and  more  a  thing  of  the  past,  there 
came  a  void  in  poor  Milly's  heart,  a  craving  that 
made  her  feel  very  wretched  and  very  much  dis- 
satisfied with  herself;  and,  humbled  and  ashamed, 
she  scolded  herself  severely,  and  lectured  herself 
without  ceasing  on  the  weakness  and  foolishness 
and  general  impropriety  of  indulging  such  vain 
regrets,  such  fruitless  hopes. 

And  for  some  time  Mildred  went  on  battling  with 
herself,  trying  to  dismiss  Strathallan,  and  above  all 
the  heir  of  Strathallan,  from  her  thoughts ;  but  she 
made  little  progress,  and  at  last  became  convinced  of 
what,  however,  no  one  else  suspected,  a  decline  of 
strength,  and  a  failing  of  general  health,  that  told 
her  she  had  taxed  to  the  utmost  her  powers  of  en- 
durance. 

She  would  certainly  have  succumbed,  physically 
at  least,  had  not  Helen's  affairs  reached  a  crisis,  and 
so  occupied  her  mind  and  called  out  her  sympa- 
thies, that  she  had  but  scant  leisure  to  dwell  on 
her  own  peculiar  source  of  sadness.  But  now  that 
all  was  settled,  and  all  immediate  causes  of  anxiety 
removed,  she  found  herself  no  nearer  a  satisfactory 


SHADOWS.  301 

state  of  mind  than  when  she  first  returned  from 
Scotland.  "What  was  to  be  done  ?  Self-upbraiding, 
self-discipline,  and  even  self-torture,  seemed  to  be  of 
little  avail.  What  could  she  do,  or  not  do,  in  order 
to  regain  that  freedom  of  heart  which  she  had  so  un- 
wittingly lost  ?  And  then  came  another  question — 
did  she  honestly  wish  to  be  free  of  heart  ?  And, 
dealing  uncompromisingly  with  herself,  Mildred  was 
obliged  to  confess,  that  a  return  to  her  former  in- 
difference, or  rather,  to  her  mere  cousinly  regard, 
was  the  last  thing  she  would  desire. 

So  once  more  she  took  herself  to  task,  and  seriously 
contemplated  the  state  of  her  feelings.  And  thus, 
reasoning  and  musing,  a  new  light  broke  in  upon 
her.  "  It  never  occurred  to  me,"  she  said  to  her- 
self, as  she  sat  alone  in  her  room,  cogitating  and 
sewing  with  all  diligence  ;  "it  never  occurred  to  me 
before  to  regard  this  unreturned  affection  of  mine  as 
a  trial — a  trial  sent  by  God.  Yet,  of  course,  it  has 
all  happened  under  His  permission,  and  by  His 
express  will.  Let  me  look  matters  fairly  in  the 
face.  I  do — -jes!  I  do  care  for  Eric,  as  he  docs  not 
care  for  me ;  and  I  cannot  help  caring,  for  all  I  have 
tried  very  hard  indeed.  In  one  way  he  is  fond  of 
me,  I  know.  I  am  his  dear  cousin ;  but  nothing 
more — no,  nothing,  nothing  more !  Now,  what 
shall  I  do?  When  one  really  loves,  and  at  the 
same  time  esteems  and  reverences  any  particular 
person,  I  am  quite  sure  it  is  useless  to  try  to 


THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

unlove  that  person ;  it  is  only  just  killing  one's  self 
by  inches,  and  gaining  nothing  in  the  end.  '  Love  is 
love  for  evermore  ; '  that  is,  true  love  is — the  love 
that  is  founded  on  esteem  and  respect,  and  the 
admiration  that  one  must  feel  for  real  goodness  and 
real  superiority  of  character  and  intellect.  I  have 
thought  often  lately  of  that  old  song,  which  says 

'  It  is  the  heaviest  of  all  pain 
To  love  and  not  be  loved  again.' 

But  the  old  song  says  wrong:  it  is  far  severer 
pain,  it  must  be,  to  make  a  mistake  in  loving,  and 
then  to  find  out  that  one  has  been  caring  for  a  myth, 
an  ideality,  that  never  really  existed — to  find  one's 
self  loving  on,  and  respect  and  reverence  gone,  and 
gone  for  evermore  !  Nothing  could  be  so  bitter  as 
to  find  that  which  we  held  dearest  and  best  upon 
earth  proving  itself  unworthy ;  and  that  is  what 
my  poor  Helen  has  had  to  suffer.  Well,  there  is  no 
shame,  no  real  shame,  as  God  holds  shame  and  good 
report,  in  loving  one  so  good,  so  high-minded,  and 
so  noble  as  my  cousin  Eric.  Such  love  must  do  one 
good,  even  if  in  one  sense  it  must  be  for  ever  in 
vain.  And  no  one  must  know  anything  about  it — no, 
never — unless  perhaps  I  were  dying,  and  then,  when 
1  was  surely  going  where  there  are  no  false  shames, 
no  foolish  pride,  no  wrong  standards,  I  think  I 
should  like  him  to  know  that  I  did  care  for  him." 
And  in  spite  of  all  her  good  sense  and  right- 


SHADOWS.  303 

mindedness,  poor  Milly  felt  just  then  as  if  dying 
would  be  the  happiest  and  the  easiest  solution  of 
all  her  difficulties.  And  she  even  went  to  the  book- 
case, and  took  down  "Records  of  Woman, "  and 
looked  for  "Properzia  Bossi,"  and  repeated  to  her- 
self a  line  well  impressed  on  her  memory — a  line 
she  half  wished  she  could  adopt  as  her  own — 

"But  I  go 
Under  the  silent  wings  of  peace  to  dwell." 

But  it  was  only  for  a  few  minutes  that  Mildred 
felt  so  sad  and  desponding  ;  the  weakness  passed,  and 
she  went  on  to  herself:  "Hush,  hush  !  poor,  way- 
ward, foolish  heart !  Bather  let  me  bear  the  pain 
as  becomes  a  true  woman  and  a  true  Christian.  I 
will  try  to  forget  that  it  is  necessary  to  be  happy ; 
perhaps  it  is  not  necessary  to  be  happy  as  we 
commonly  regard  happiness.  I  will  try  to  live  for 
others,  to  put  myself  out  of  the  question,  to  work 
hard  whiJe  the  daylight  lasts,  to  draw  pleasure  from 
every  pure  and  innocent  source,  and  to  be  content  to 
wait  till  evening-time  for  the  rest  and  the  joy  that 
will  surely  come  at  last.  I  have  so  many  blessings, 
so  many  rich  gifts !  Life  has  been  to  me,  on  the 
whole,  a  draught  of  so  much  sweetness,  and  shall  I 
reject  the  first  bitter  drop  my  Father  sees  fit  to 
mingle  in  my  cup  ?  Thank  God  for  His  inestimable 
mercies !  Yes,  I  thank  Him  for  creation,  preserva- 
tion, and  all  the  blessings  of  this  life,  but  still  more 


304  THE    LILLINGSTONES. 

do  I  thank  Him  for  that  greatest  of  all  blessings,  the 
hope  of  eternal  life  in  His  dear  Son  !  Sorrow  may 
endure  for  a  lifetime,  though  I  do  not  helieve  it  will, 
or  ought ;  but  there  is  all  eternity  for  rest  and  peace, 
and  the  inconceivable  bliss  of  the  world  to  come. 
Oh,  God  will  give  me  strength,  God  will  guide  me 
in  the  right  way !  He  will  show  me  how  to  glorify 
Him  best!  I  must  not  be  a  dismal,  disappointed, 
embittered  Christian,  if  there  can  be  such  an  anomaly, 
which  I  don't  believe  there  is,  or  ever  was,  or  ever 
will  be.  "Why  should  the  children  of  the  Kingdom 
wear  sackcloth  all  their  days  ? 

'  Nor  by  the  wayside  ruins  let  us  mourn, 
Who  have  th'  eternal  towers  for  our  appointed  bourn.' 

One  thing  I  am  quite  certain  about — I  must  not 
let  myself  be  idle ;  I  must  not  give  myself  time  to 
meditate  on  my  sorrow,  to  reflect  on  the  brightness 
and  joy  that  might  have  been.  I  think  I  will  go 
twice  a  week  to  Specleton  through  the  summer,  and 
it  is  high  time  Alice  began  German.  Then  I  must 
devote  myself  more  than  ever  to  Helen  ;  she  needs 
all  our  love,  all  our  sympathy,  poor  darling  !  Her 
grief  is  infinitely  beyond  mine  ;  and  oh  !  she  does  not 
see  yet  that  pain  is  discipline,  and  that  discipline  is 
sent  in  love,  and  from  Love.  And  the  life  to  come 
is  not  so  fair  to  her  as  the  life  that  might  have  been 
hers,  had  things  been  different.  Not  yet,  not  yet ! 
but  she  will  see  it  one  day  I  know !  Ah !  I  ahall 


SHADOWS.  305 

find  plenty  to  do,  and,  God  helping  me,  I  will  do  it. 
I  shall  love  Eric  all  the  same,  but  I  have  no  idea 
of  dying  of  a  broken  heart,  or  of  turning  into  a 
melancholy,  peevish  old  maid,  *  crossed  in  love,'  as 
people  call  it.  Rather  let  me  say — 

'  The  star  of  the  unconquered  will, 

He  rises  in  my  breast ; 
Serene,  and  resolute,  and  still, 
And  calm,  and  self-possessed.' 

And  say  it,  too,  humbly  and  truthfully,  and  in 
the  strength  of  One  who  is  the  Source  and  Spring  of 
all  calmness  and  stillness  and  resolute  endurance, 
and  who  knows  my  weakness  and  sorrow  and  need." 
That  evening,  as  Helen  lay  on  the  sofa,  with  her 
old  beloved  Tennyson  in  her  hand,  she  was  watching 
Mildred  sitting  at  the  large  table,  peeling  Seville 
oranges,  for  it  had  seemed  to  her  that  it  was  just 
the  right  time  to  be  making  marmalade,  and  she 
thought  a  little  cookery  would  do  her  no  harm. 
And  as  Helen  watched  the  bright,  serious  eyes, 
and  the  calm,  quiet  mouth,  she  sighed,  and  said  to 
herself,  "  Oh,  happy  Mildred !  What  must  it  be  to 
be  heart-whole,  and  free,  and  caring  only  for  the 
sorrows  of  others,  as  she  is!  Everything  in  the 
world  seems  to  give  her  pleasure ;  she  is  actually 
peeling  those  oranges  as  if  she  enjoyed  it !  And  she 
never  seems  tired,  or  melancholy,  or  out  of  spirits 
She  is  very  grave,  though,  sometimes.  I  have 


306  THE  LILLINGSTONES. 

fancied,  once  or  twice,  that  she  had  something  to 
grieve  her,  that  she  told  to  no  one.  But  I  dare  say 
it  is  all  care  for  me,  dear,  good,  unselfish  Milly! 
Ah !  she  is  worth  twenty  such  women  as  I  am,  or 
ever  can  he !  " 

And  Mildred  went  on  with  her  oranges  in  silence, 
and  at  length  Helen  asked,  "Milly,  are  you  ever 
miserahle  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sometimes,"  replied  Mildred,  quickly,  and 
colouring  in  spite  of  herself.  "  But  I  am  never 
miserable  long,  or  without  being  ashamed  of  myself. 
People  who  have  as  many  blessings  as  I  have,  and 
the  same  sure  hope  of  the  joy  to  come,  have  no  right 
to  be  miserable." 

"]NTo  right?  Oh,  Milly!  as  if  one  could  help 
being  miserable !  " 

"One  can,"  replied  Milly,  firmly.  "God  never 
meant  any  one  to  be  miserable.  Everything  in  the 
world  of  nature,  as  well  as  in  the  world  of  grace, 
speaks  of  hope,  and  the  resurrection  of  that  which 
for  a  time  is  taken  away  and  buried  out  of  our 
sight.  Nothing  but  unrepented  sin  can  make  any- 
body thoroughly  and  permanently  miserable." 

"  Happy  Milly !  "  said  Helen,  tenderly  and  mourn- 
fully. "Eut  if  you  should  ever  have  anything  to 
make  you  miserable,  you  may  feel  quite  differently. 
Theory  and  experience  are  two  things,  you  know, 
dear." 

Helen  looked  earnestly  at  her,  but  Mildred  made 


SHADOWS.  307 

no  reply ;  she  was  peeling  her  oranges  as  if  just  then 
nothing  else  in  the  world  was  worthy  of  considera- 
tion. And  after  a  long  silence,  her  only  remark 
was,  "Helen,  I  think  some  hlanc-mange  would  he  9 
good  thing  for  you.  There  is  isinglass  in  the 
house  ;  I  will  make  you  a  mould  for  to-morrow.  I 
heard  you  tell  Alice  you  were  quite  tired  of  calves' - 
feet  jelly." 


308  THE    LILLINGSTONES. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

A  WALK   ON   THE   MOORS. 

THE  summer  came  in  all  its  splendour,  and  a  most 
brilliant  summer  it  was.  Never  had  the  hills  and 
the  moors  and  the  deep  woods  of  Specleton  looked  so 
beautiful  since  the  Lillingstones  came  to  live  at 
Oldminster.  And  in  July  Alfred  came  home  for 
several  weeks,  the  longest  holiday  he  had  taken  for 
nearly  five  years.  He  was  in  his  twenty-third  year 
now,  and  a  fine,  handsome  young  man  he  was,  tall 
and  stalwart,  with  clear,  earnest  dark  eyes,  and  dark 
curling  hair,  and  a  pair  of  whiskers  that  were  the 
delight  of  Walter's  heart,  and  the  secret  envy  of 
the  younger  male  branches  of  the  Golding  family. 
Commercial  pursuits  had  certainly  not  deteriorated 
him  either  in  looks  or  in  manners,  and  it  needed  but 
a  few  minutes'  converse  to  be  assured  that  his  mind 
also  was  still  of  the  highest  order,  and  his  tastes 
still  intellectual  and  refined. 

"  And  you  really  like  business?"  said  Katty  to 
him  one  day,  when  they  were  roaming  about  on 
Hasleslack  Moor. 


A  WALK  ON  THE   MOORS.  309 

"I  do  like  it,  Katty !  My  work  is  my  pleasure, 
and  I  take  a  pride  in  doing  it  expeditiously  and 
well.  Besides,  I  assure  you,  business  is  not,  and 
need  not  be,  the  humdrum  sort  of  thing  that  people 
commonly  suppose.  There  is  as  much  scope  for 
talent  there,  as  in  any  of  the  learned  professions. 
Why,  Katty,  for  the  first  few  weeks,  I  thought  the 
complications  and  the  ramifications,  and  the  heights 
and  depths,  and  the  ins  and  outs,  of  a  thorough 
business  life,  would  be  quite  beyond  my  limited 
capacity.  Mastering  a  Greek  author  or  a  knotty 
problem  seemed  to  be  baby-play  compared  with  all 
the  arcana  of  commerce  into  which  I,  an  unfledged, 
uninitiated  neophyte,  desired  to  penetrate.  Happily, 
I  remembered  the  advice  Dr.  Armstrong  gave  me 
when  I  was  first  promoted  to  the  sixth  form — to 
master  one  thing  at  once,  and  to  master  it  thoroughly, 
before  I  proceeded  to  another ;  and  I  gave  heed,  too, 
to  an  injunction  that  I  received  from  the  pages  of  a 
little  French  book  that  Bertha  gave  me  when  I 
began  to  study  the  language,  and  it  was  this, 
'  Learn  something  perfectly,  and  refer  everything 
thereunto.'  " 

"  And  was  it  long  before  you  began  to  understand 
what  was  required  of  you  ?  " 

"No;  after  the  first  four  or  five  weeks  I  began 
to  see  my  way  pretty  clearly.  One  thing  explained 
another,  and  one  thing  led  to  another,  and  Mr. 
Golding  was  most  kind,  and  extremely  patient ;  and 
at  last  it  all  seemed  to  come  to  me,  and  ever  since  I 


310  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

have  found  the  greatest  pleasure  in  mastering  the 
difficulties,  and  unravelling  the  intricacies  of  com- 
merce." 

"  And  then  you  have  been  abroad  several  times?" 
"Yes;  I  have  been  over  to  Spain,  and  twice  to 
Germany ;  and  I  am  not  sure  whether  Mr.  Golding 
will  not  send  me  to  Monte  Video  next  spring.  I 
have  found,  too,  so  many  clever  and  highly  educated 
men  since  I  first  devoted  myself  to  commerce,  and 
all  revolving  in  those  same  mercantile  orbits,  where, 
in  my  ignorance  and  boyish  conceit,  I  fancied  culti- 
vation and  refinement  never  could  exist,  and  certainly 
never  prosper.  It  does  us  good,  also,  to  associate 
with  foreigners  ;  it  rubs  off  some  of  our  insular  pre- 
judices, at  the  same  time  that  it  makes  us  appreciate 
more  fully  our  insular  privileges,  our  national  policy, 
and  our  national  Protestantism.  Ah,  Katty!  how 
thankful  I  am  now,  that  I  lost  that  greatly  desired 
scholarship !  Situated  as  I  was,  and  am,  what 
would  Oxford  have  done  for  me  ?  Mind,  I  don't 
undervalue  an  university  education,  but  for  me  it 
•vould  have  been  of  little  avail.  I  can  smile  now  at 
.ny  own  folly,  at  groping  my  way  so  blindly  and 
so  ignorantly.  What  I  clearly  proposed  to  myself 
when  once  I  had  taken  my  degree,  I  cannot  now 
imagine.  How  strange  it  is  to  look  back  upon  one's 
old  self  after  the  lapse  of  ever  so  few  years,  and  feel 
constrained  to  own  one's  utter  want  of  common 
sense  in  so  very  many  particulars !  " 

"Very;  I  know  full  well  what  that  is.      But, 


A  WALK   ON   THE   MOORS.  311 

Alfred,  may  I  ask  you — I  do  so  want  to  know — are 
you  any  nearer  the  end  you  proposed  to  yourself 
almost  seven  years  ago  ?  Is  Lillingstone  any  nearer 
being  yours  ?" 

"Much  nearer,  Katty  dear,  thank  God!  If  I 
complete  the  Monte  Yideo  transactions  to  Mr.  Gold- 
ing's  satisfaction,  I  believe,  nay,  I  am  pretty  sure, 
he  intends  taking  me  into  the  firm.  Nor  is  that  all ; 
since  I  have  become  a  man  of  business — and  in  these 
wide-awake,  go-ahead  times,  Kate,  you  cannot  tell 
how  business-habits  sharpen  one's  wits — I  have  spent 
some  of  my  leisure  time  in  going  over  our  own 
affairs ;  and  it  seems  to  me,  I  am  not  quite  sure  yet, 
that  there  is  every  cause  to  believe  that  our  misfor- 
tunes, humanly  speaking,  originated  quite  as  much 
in  our  ignorance  and  incapacity  in  the  simplest  affairs 
of  business,  as  in  our  evident  imprudence  and  care- 
less expenditure.  There  has  been  falsehood  and 
treachery  at  work,  Katty,  if  I  mistake  not ;  there 
have  been  those  who  have  fattened  themselves,  and 
are  yet  thriving  on  the  spoils  of  Lillingstone.  If 
what  I  conjecture  be  right,  it  will  not  take  half  the 
money  I  thought,  to  redeem  my  inheritance." 

"Oh,  Alfred!  can  it  indeed  be  so?  What  will 
mamma  feel  when  she  first  sees  a  prospect  of  return- 
ing to  Lillingstone !  What  shall  we  all  feel !  But, 
nevertheless,  I  have  learned  to  love  Oldminster 
exceedingly,  and  I  shall  be  very  sad  when  I  come 
to  bid  it  farewell." 


312  THE   L1LL1NGSTONES. 

"  One  thing,  Katty — what  I  say  now  is  said  in 
confidence,  though  I  don't  mind  letting  Hilly  know. 
That  girl  has  sense  and  mother- wit  enough  for  half- 
a-dozen  ordinary  women !  Mamma  must  know 
nothing,  and  Helen  must  know  nothing ;  they  are 
not  strong  enough  to  bear  anxiety  and  suspense,  and 
there  may  be  sore  disappointment  in  store  for  me 
yet.  I  intend  to  take  the  invaluable  advice  of  the 
town  clerk  of  Ephesus.  I  shall  go  through  the 
documents  once  more,  and  then  I  shall  consult  Mr. 
Golding,  and  if  he  agrees  with  me,  and  thinks  that 
there  is  an  honest  and  a  likely  case,  I  shall  submit 
it  to  legal  inspection,  and  if  I  receive  a  favourable 
opinion,  proceed  at  once  to  institute  inquiries  that 
ought  to  have  been  made  many  years  ago." 

"  Do  you  remember  that  Sandmouth  lawyer  that 
we  all  used  to  dislike  so  very  much?  His  name 
was  Gryde,  I  think.  Well,  I  have  often  fancied 
that  man  was  false  ;  if  he  spoke  to  me  in  that  fawn- 
ing, cringing  way  he  had,  I  always  felt  uneasy,  and 
wished  he  would  go  away,  and  never  come  to  Lilling- 
stone  again.  I  remember  him  when  I  was  quite  a 
little  girl.  I  could  not  bear  him  then  because  he 
squinted,  and  had  a  broken  nose,  and  because  some- 
body said  that  his  hair,  which  was  raven-black,  you 
know,  was  dyed,  its  natural  hue  being  carotty." 

"  You  are  right.  Gryde  is  the  very  man  I  sus- 
pect ;  he  still  manages  the  Lillingstone  estates,  and, 
unless  I  greatly  belie  him,  he  has  built  up  his  family 


A  WALK   ON   THE  MOORS.  313 

on  the  ruin  of  ours ;  and  it  is  commonly  said  of  him 
in  the  neighbourhood,  that  he  has  feathered  his  own 
nest  at  the  expense  of  his  integrity.  But  there  are 
others  who,  if  he  be  guilty,  must  be  implicated  in 
his  fraud ;  and  altogether,  I  fear,  it  will  be  an  ex- 
tremely complicated  affair,  requiring  great  caution, 
tact,  prudence,  and  sober  judgment.  Let  us  talk 
no  more  about  Gryde,  at  present,  Katty." 

"  Very  well,  there  are  a  hundred  other  and  better 
things  to  talk  about.  In  the  first  place,  how  did 
you  find  Bertha  when  you  were  in  London  some 
time  since?" 

1 1  Very  well  in  health,  and  prospering  externally ; 
but  I  suppose  you  would  wish  to  inquire  further — 
well,  then,  I  thought  her  looking  faded  and  dis- 
satisfied and  fretful ;  and  between  ourselves,  Katty, 
I  think  she  leads  Granville  such  a  life  as  I  would 
not  lead,  no,  not  if  in  compensation  thereof,  I  might 
have  Lillingstone  back  again  to-morrow !  A  better 
fellow  than  Granville  Golding  never  lived,  even  a 
million  of  money  has  done  him  no  harm ;  and  if  a 
man  can  stand  sudden  and  extraordinary  prosperity, 
he  must  be  a  really  good  man.  How  did  you  find 
matters  last  year  ?  " 

"  Not  at  all  as  I  should  like  to  have  found  them. 
I  really  should  not  like  to  say  what  I  thought  of 
their  domestic  portraiture.  There  was  only  one 
thing  at  Eedlands  that  gave  me  undivided  pleasure, 
and  that  was  the  society  of  my  little  nieces.  They 


314  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

are  sweet  children,  Alfred ;  Bertha  has  half  promised 
to  bring  them  down  with  her  when  she  comes  in  the 
autumn ;  and  if  she  does,  I  shall  try  to  persuade  her 
to  leave  Lily  with  us  for  the  winter.  You  cannot 
think  how  it  pleases  me  to  enact  the  rdle  of  ma 
tante" 

"  Yes ;  I  was  delighted  with  the  children.  They 
see  hut  very  little  of  their  mother  though,  I  fear. 
Granville  doats  on  them,  and  thinks  no  man  in 
Christendom  is  blessed  with  two  such  lovely  little 
daughters  as  he  is.  Eric  need  not  fret  for  what 
he  has  lost.  Bertha  would  never  have  made  him 
happy,  and  I  shall  tell  him  so  some  day,  as  I  did 
tell  Mildred  yesterday.  Helen  was  very  wearied 
with  staying  with  Bertha ;  but  then,  poor  thing,  she 
was  in  no  mood  for  gaieties,  and  'going  into  society 
was  a  penance  rather  than  a  pleasure  to  her." 

"  That  reminds  me  I  have  been  wanting  to  catch 
you  alone  ever  since  yesterday  morning,  that  I 
might  speak  to  you  about  Helen.  It  is  my  belief 
that  she  is  in  a  very  bad  state  of  health ;  she  has 
been  ailing  so  long,  without  any  decided  form  of 
illness,  that  you  are  all  getting  accustomed  to  her 
invalid  looks  and  ways,  and  are  therefore  insensible 
to  the  slow  but  sure  advances  of  what  may  be  in- 
sidious and  incurable  disease.  I  don't  want  to 
frighten  you,  Katty,  but  Helen  looks  to  me  like  a 
person  in  a  decline.  "What  does  Dr.  Thwaites  say  of 
her?" 


A   WALK   ON   THE   MOORS.  315 

"  He  has  not  seen  her  for  some  weeks  ;  she  says 
she  does  not  need  advice,  and  that  it  would  be  an 
unnecessary  expense.  A  few  days  before  you  came 
mamma  wished  to  send  for  him ;  but  Helen  would 
not  hear  of  it ;  she  even  declared  she  would  not  see 
him  if  he  were  sent  for;  and  so  we  gave  up  the  idea." 

"  Nevertheless  she  shall  see  him  before  she  is 
twenty-four  hours  older.  I  have  great  confidence 
in  Dr.  Thwaites,  and  I  think  if  there  were  danger 
he  would  warn  us  of  it  without  hesitation." 

"  I  am  sure  he  would.  But  oh,  Alfred !  I  cannot 
think  there  is  anything  serious  to  be  apprehended. 
Helen  has  been  for  months  as  you  see  her  now ;  all 
last  winter  she  was  so  delicate  that  we  kept  her  very 
much  in  the  house,  and  I  do  not  see  that  there  is 
any  alteration  for  the  worse." 

"  How  long  has  she  taken  to  breakfast  regularly 
in  bed?" 

"  Since  the  beginning  of  the  winter.  In  the  cold 
weather  we  would  not  let  her  get  up  at  the  ordinary 
time,  and  when  the  spring  came  the  practice  was 
somehow  continued.  Nothing  was  said  about  it, 
but  I  went  on  carrying  up  her  breakfast  morning 
after  morning.  And  then  came  the  breaking  off  of 
the  engagement,  and  for  a  while  she  was  worse,  and 
had  to  be  kept  very  quiet,  and  since  then  she  has 
seemed  to  prefer  being  very  much  in  her  room ;  and 
I  must  confess  that  at  the  present  time  she  comes 
down  later  than  she  ever  did  before." 


316  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

LA 

"And  is  she  always  the  same  as  she  has  been 
while  I  have  been  at  home  ?  Why,  Katty,  she  goes 
to  the  sofa  as  instinctively  as  you  and  I  take  a  chair 
on  coming  into  the  room ;  and  she  seems  to  need  it, 
too,  for  the  fatigue  of  dressing  is  evidently  almost 
too  much  for  her.  And  what  does  she  eat  ?  " 

"  Very  little,  very  little  indeed.  Oh,  Alfred,  you 
make  me  very  sorrowful,  and  I  feel  so  grieved  that 
I  have  not  noticed  these  little  indications  earlier ! 
But  it  has  become  such  a  regular  thing  for  Helen  to 
lie  on  the  sofa,  and  to  seem  weak  and  languid,  that 
it  has  ceased  to  alarm  us." 

"  I  can  quite  understand  how  it  is.  If  I  had 
been  at  home  like  the  rest  of  you,  I  should  have  been 
equally  unimpressed  with  her  altered  ways  and 
looks.  She  has  declined  so  very  gradually,  that  the 
different  stages  have  been  and  are  imperceptible  to 
those  who  are  with  her  from  day  to  day.  How- 
ever, Dr.  Thwaites  shall  see  her  to-morrow  ;  I  shall 
tell  him  to  pay  me  a  visit,  and  my  place  to-morrow 
morning  shall  be  by  her  sofa ;  she  will  not  object  to 
see  him  as  a  friend,  though  she  may  not  wish  to 
consult  him  as  her  medical  adviser." 

And  then  for  a  time  the  two  walked  on  in  silence, 
for  Katty 's  heart  was  very  heavy,  and  she  was  re- 
proaching herself  with  carelessness  on  her  sister's 
behalf.  How  could  she  have  been  so  blind,  so 
thoughtless,  as  not  to  have  noticed  the  slow  decay 
which  seemed  creeping  over  Helen's  delicate  frame ! 


A  WALK   ON  THE  MOOKS.  317 

Presently  Alfred  said:  "And  now,  Katty,  I  have 
something  else  that  I  want  to  tell  you  before  we 
reach  home.  Do  you  know  that  a  few  weeks  ago  I 
had  an  adventure,  that  I  should  like  to  confide  to 
you,  and  to  no  one  else  ?" 

"What  was  it?" 

"  Listen.  One  evening  in  the  month  of  May,  I 
went  across,  as  I  often  do,  when  business  hours  are 
over,  to  the  Cheshire  side.  For  some  reason  or 
other  we  were  clear  of  the  counting-house  unusually 
early,  and  I  took  the  six  o'clock  boat  to  Bock  Perry, 
got  a  cup  of  tea  there,  and  walked  on  to  Eastham. 
There  had  been  a  pic-nic  in  the  Eastham  Woods, 
and  many  people  went  back  to  Liverpool  in  the  last 
boat,  which  I  also  took  to  return  home.  It  was  a 
lovely,  warm  evening,  and  the  party  on  board  were 
very  full  of  merriment.  One  group  especially 
attracted  my  attention ;  there  was  an  elderly  gentle- 
man with  a  countenance  that  by  no  means  pre- 
possessed me  in  his  favour,  and  with  him  were 
several  young  ladies,  one  of  whom  I  speedily  dis- 
covered to  be  his  daughter,  and  whom  he  and  the 
others  called  Ada. 

"Now  Miss  Ada  was  a  very  pretty  little  thing, 
with  long  curls  and  a  broad,  flapping  hat,  but  she 
was  much  more  like  a  kitten  than  a  young  lady. 
Her  mirth  seemed  inexhaustible;  she  was  full  of 
pranks,  and  her  spirits  were  evidently  at  the  highest 
pitch.  All  the  way  down  the  river  she  laughed  and 


318  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

chatted,  and  tripped  about  to  her  heart's  content,  to 
the  amusement  of  her  young  companions,  and  to  the 
undisguised  admiration  of  her  elderly  and  pompous 
papa.  When  we  reached  Liverpool  it  was  rather 
late,  and  it  would  have  been  nearly  dark  had  it  not 
been  for  a  brilliant  full  moon.  There  was  some 
little  difficulty  about  the  landing,  and  though  the 
rope  was  thrown  out,  we  remained  at  a  distance  of 
about  two  yards  from  the  stage,  and  the  plank  was 
not  laid  down.  Several  gentlemen,  more  adven- 
turous than  wise,  I  suppose,  and  annoyed  at  the 
detention,  leaped  ashore  easily  enough,  and  were 
soon  lost  in  the  crowd.  Little  Miss  Ada,  full  of 
frolic  and  mischief,  declared  she  would  follow  their 
example,  for  she  was  quite  tired  of  stopping  there 
all  night ;  and  before  any  one  could  interfere  she 
sprang  to  the  edge  of  the  chasm,  which,  in  the 
uncertain  light  looked  narrower  than  it  really  was. 
Another  lady,  older  and  steadier  than  the  rest  of 
the  party,  put  out  her  hand  to  detain  her ;  but  she 
shook  her  wilful  little  head,  and  saying  something 
saucy,  managed  to  elude  her  grasp.  Whether  she 
was  prompted  by  a  spirit  of  daring,  or  recklessness, 
or  whether  the  engine,  which  at  that  moment  made 
a  stroke  or  two  backwards,  threw  her  off  her  balance, 
I  cannot  tell ;  it  all  happened  in  a  moment ;  she 
seemed  to  attempt  the  leap,  and  immediately  fell 
into  the  water  between  the  steamer  and  the  landing- 
stage.  In  ninety-nine  cases  out  of  a  hundred  such 


A   WALK   ON   THE   MOORS.  319 

an  accident  would  have  been  fatal,  for  there  was 
every  danger  of  being  drawn  in  among  the  iron 
piers  of  the  stage,  or  sucked  in  under  the  boat ;  but 
you  know  I  swim  like  a  fish,  Katty,  and  dive  to 
perfection ;  so  without  a  second  thought  I  jumped  in 
after  her,  and,  providentially,  I  found  her  almost 
immediately,  and  had  her  safe  in  my  arms  before 
half  the  passengers  knew  what  had  happened.  In 
less  time  than  I  have  taken  to  tell  you  all  this,  we 
were  both  safe  on  the  landing-stage ;  of  course,  We 
were  both  soaked  in  the  dirty  sea- water,  and  she 
was  terribly  frightened  and  hysterical.  I  tried  to 
cut  off  without  further  parley,  but  I  was  seized  by 
the  father,  who  showed  every  disposition  to  go  down 
on  his  knees  to  me ;  and  before  I  knew  where  I  was, 
I  was  hurried  away  to  his  carriage,  which  was 
awaiting  him  under  the  Baths.  I  would  not  get  in, 
however ;  I  preferred  walking  in  my  wet  clothes ; 
but  the  old  gentleman  made  me  give  my  address, 
and  next  day  he  cam*,  full  of  gratitude  and  praises 
of  my  prowess,  which  I  know  looked  more  distin- 
guished than  it  really  was.  I  was  invited  to  his 
house,  and  I  went  accordingly,  and  found  him  to  be 
a  person  of  enormous  wealth  and  good  family,  with 
this  only  daughter  and  child,  the  Miss  Ada  of  my 
story. 

""Well,  Katty,  how  do  you  think  he  wished  to 
reward  me?  A  week  after  our  adventure  in  the 
Mersey  he  offered  me  his  daughter's  hand,  with  all 


320  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

her  wealth  and  all  her  expectations,  and  an  intima- 
tion that  the  young  lady  herself  was  by  no  means 
averse  to  the  match." 

"And  what  did  you  do?" 

"Do?  I  could  do  but  one  thing — respectfully 
decline.  I  could  not  consent  to  marry  the  girl  be- 
cause I  fished  her  out  of  the  water,  which  any  jack- 
tar  would  have  done  had  he  been  where  I  was.  I 
cared  nothing  at  all  for  little  Miss  Ada ;  she  was  and 
is  no  more  to  me  than  any  other  young  lady  in  Lan- 
cashire, or  Cheshire,  or  any  other  of  the  fifty-two 
shires  in  south  Britain.  And  a  million,  or  two  millions 
of  money  would  not  tempt  me  to  sell  myself  to  an 
unloved  bride,  and  so  I  could  only  bow,  and  feel 
highly  honoured,  and  quite  unworthy,  &c.,  &c.,  and 
say  l  no.'  The  old  gentleman  grew  first  stiff,  and 
then  angry,  and  then  enraged ;  and  I  was  very  glad 
to  get  away  and  leave  West  Derby  behind  me.  But 
if  I  could  have  liked  her,  her  money  would  have 
bought  back  Lillingstone,  you  know." 


THE  DOCTOR  ON  LOVE  AFFAIRS. 


CHAPTER,  Y. 

THE   DOCTOR    ON    LOVE    AJfcTAIJIS. 

THAT  visit  of  Alfred's  was  like  a"  green  spot  in  a 
sterile  plain.  It  did  everybody  good.  Mrs.  Lilling- 
stone  thought  herself  happy  to  be  able  to  see  his 
face  and  hear  his  voice.  Katty  was  in  a  state  of 
bliss  whenever  she  could  secure  a  long,  uninter- 
rupted season  of  converse  with  her  darling  brother. 
Helen  was  certainly  the  better  for  his  presence,  for 
she  was  drawn  more  continually  out  of  herself,  and 
roused  more  frequently  to  interest  in  extraneous 
subjects.  Mildred  was  cheered  and  helped  in  many 
ways ;  and  the  children,  as  Walter  and  Alice  were 
still  called,  were  wild  with  delight  when  he  entered 
into  their  pursuits,  and  when  they  could,  as  was 
sometimes  the  case,  secure  him  all  to  themselves. 

Helen  was  better ;  but  Dr.  Thwaites's  verdict  had 
not  been  favourable.  He  thought  that,  to  say  the  least 
of  it,  she  was  in  a  very  precarious  state.  "With  every 
care,  and  with  attention  to  certain  rules  prescribed,  he 
hoped,  he  thought  she  might  .in  time  become  stronger 

Y 


322  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

and  more  healthy ;  but  everything  depended  upon 
the  state  of  her  mind  ;  and  meeting  Mildred  one  day 
as  she  was  coming  home  from  Hasleslack,  he  said  to 
her,  "  Yon  see,  Miss  Milly,  this  is  a  case  in  which 
medical  skill  alone  is  insufficient.  The  evil  lies  in 
the  mind,  and  till  that  is  soothed  and  calmed, 
there  is  little  hope  of  medicine  or  regimen  effecting 
a  cure.  Confound  that  parson !  with  his  Gregorian 
chants,  and  his  yolumes  of  poetry !  " 

Mildred  could  not  help  smiling  at  the  good  doctor's 
vehemence ;  but  the  momentary  brightness  faded  as 
he  continued,  "  Now  to  tell  truth,  Miss  Mildred,  I 
half  waylaid  you  this  afternoon  that  I  might  say  a 
word  in  season.  As  I  have  just  been  saying,  every- 
thing depends  on  the  state  of  the  mind ;  and  I  can- 
not say  it  too  often,  because  I  am  nearly  powerless 
unless  you  and  the  rest  of  your  family  second  my 
efforts ;  though,  after  all,  you  and  I  can  do  but 
little,  unless  the  invalid  herself  struggle  against  her 
own  inclinations — she  must  not  give  way  ;  giving  way 
kills  more  women  than  all  other  diseases  that  l  flesh 
is  heir  to,'  and  it  kills  men  too,  occasionally.  1 
don't  mean  that  people  really  die  of  what  is  popu- 
larly called  a  broken  heart — though,  God  help  us ! 
there  are  such  mournful  cases — but  I  refer  to  a 
habit  of  nursing  grief,  neglecting  exercise,  and  the 
proper  seasons  of  taking  food  and  sleep ;  fretting  and 
fuming  one's  self  into  a  state  of  fever  and  chronic 
nervousness,  and  so  inducing  maladies,  or,  at  best, 


THE  DOCTOR  ON  LOVE  AFFAIRS.     323 

bringing  the  constitution  into  such  a  state,  that 
minor  indispositions  shall  have  a  power  and  a  vio- 
lence which,  in  other  days,  scarcely  belonged  to  the 
more  fatal  species  of  disease." 

"  What  do  you  consider  to  be  the  best  specific 
for  heart- complaint,  doctor?"  asked  Mildred.  He 
little  thought  she  also  was  a  sufferer,  and  stood  in 
need  of  proper  medicines. 

"  Firstly,  and  chiefly,  trust  in  God,  and  a  good 
hope  of  the  rest  and  the  joy  of  eternal  life.  Secondly, 
work — earnest,  healthy,  regular  work,  and  plenty 
of  it.  If  Miss  Helen  had  had  to  get  her  own  living, 
it  is  highly  probable  that  she  would  not  now  be 
standing  in  need  of  my  poor  services." 

Mildred  made  no  reply;  but  her  heart  endorsed 
every  word  that  the  doctor  uttered.  He  was  silent 
for  a  little  while,  and  then  he  broke  out  again 
* ;  Bless  me  !  I  am  going  to  forget  the  principal  thing 
I  wanted  to  say.  The  chief  thing  to  be  dreaded 
now,  on  your  sister's  account,  is  any  sudden  shock — 
any  bad  news  coming  to  her  without  previous  pre- 
paration. I  tell  you  candidly  it  would  kill  her ;  in 
her  present  state  she  would  not,  humanly  speaking, 
have  a  chance.  She  might  not  die  there  and  then ; 
but  she  would  not  live  many  months,  probably  not 
many  weeks  :  it  would  be  her  death-blow." 

"  Have  you  any  reason  for  apprehending  such  a 
shock?"   asked  Mildred,  quickly.     "  Do  you  know 
of  any  tidings  afloat,  likely  to  agitate  my  sister  ?  " 
\  J 


324  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

"  Well,  I  confess  I  did  not  speak  at  a  venture- 
Yesterday  I  was  at  Harrop,  and  I  heard  some  news, 
or  rather  some  gossip,  that  completely  put  me  out  of 
sorts  ;  but  I  dare  say  it  is  only  mere  talk/' 

"  "What  is  it,  doctor?  anything  about  Helen  ?  " 

"  Something  that  concerns  her  very  nearly.  I 
wish  with  all  my  heart  it  didn't.  The  Berringtons, 
who,  you  know,  always  affected  the  closest  intimacy 
with  Mr.  Lascelles — hang  him  ! — are  telling  every- 
body that  he  is  engaged,  and  on  the  point  of  marriage 
with  the  Lady  Isabella  Blandville,  second  daughter 
of  his  patron,  the  Earl  of  Southcombe." 

"  I  cannot  believe  it.  Thoroughly  as  I  would 
deprecate  Mr.  Lascelles'  conduct,  I  cannot  imagine 
him  guilty  of  so  much  baseness." 

"  Gently,  gently,  my  dear  Miss  Milly!  As  the 
young  man  was  off  with  his  old  love,  he  can  hardly 
be  called  base  because  he  is  on  with  the  new !  So 
long  as  a  man  does  not  court  two  women  at  once, 
we  must  pity  and  forgive  the  versatility  of  his  affec- 
tions, or  rather,  fancies ;  and  the  Reverend  Arthur 
Lascelles,  with  his  deep  tones,  and  his  deep,  dark 
eyes,  and  his  white  hands,  is  just  the  man  to  fasci- 
nate any  number  of  silly  girls.  Oh,  the 

*  Snowy-banded,  delicate  handed, 
Dilletante  priest!'" 

"  But,  doctor,  I  hope  I  am  not  uncharitable,  but  I 
cannot  help  thinking  that  this  fact — if  it  be  a  fact — • 


THE   DOCTOR   ON   LOVE   AFFAIRS.  325 

explains  his  evident  readiness,  his  great  anxiety,  to 
break  with  Helen.  I  am  afraid  our  poor  Helen  was 
a  stumbling-block  in  his  way,  and  he  was  only  too 
thankful  to  lay  hold  on  any  pretext  for  regaining 
his  freedom.  Well,  as  far  as  I  am  concerned,  I  do 
not  mind  who  he  marries,  or  how  soon:  but  I 
greatly  fear  the  news  will  have  a  very  serious  effect 
upon  my  sister.  Had  we  better  gently  hint  the 
truth,  and  so  break  it  to  her  by  degrees,  or  had  we 
better  be  silent,  and  keep  newspapers  and  news- 
mongers out  of  her  way  ?  " 

"Miss  Hilly,  you  are  a  thorough  woman;  you 
rush  to  a  conclusion  without  properly  regarding 
your  premises  !  Mr.  Lascelles'  engagement  may  be 
nothing  more  than  a  groundless  report,  and  it  would 
be  unwise  to  take  any  steps  till  we  are  certified  that 
we  are  not  going  to  circumvent  a  shadow." 

"And  yet,  doctor,  you  thought  it  necessary  to 
take  a  step  in  advance,  or  why  did  you  come  to 
meet  me  this  evening  ?  " 

"  Mere  precaution,  mere  precaution ;  nothing 
more !  Miss  Milly,  I  won't  argue  with  you ;  I 
know  of  old  what  the  result  must  bo.  "Well,  well ! 
you  know  there  is  such  a  report  abroad,  and  I  have 
told  you  what  would  be  the  consequence  of  any 
abrupt  communication  of  such  report.  I  leave  the 
rest  to  your  own  excellent  judgment." 

Milly  walked  on  gravely  and  sadly  enough,  with  a 
miserable  conviction  in  her  heart  that  Helen  had 


326  THE   L1LLINGSTONES. 

been  deserted  for  another,  richer  and  higher  born,  and 
it  might  be,  more  beautiful  and  more  accomplished, 
but  scarcely  more  loving,  more  true,  more  pure- 
hearted.  It  was  weeks  since  Helen  had  breathed 
the  name  of  her  recreant  lover,  and  how  would  it  be 
possible  to  convey  to  her  the  tidings  of  his  approach- 
ing marriage,  without  giving  a  thorough  shock  to 
the  system,  already  so  worn  and  so  shattered  with 
prolonged  indisposition,  and  the  unrestrained  indul- 
gence of  a  great  heart-sorrow. 

"  Oh,  if  she  were  but  a  little  stronger!"  said 
Milly  to  herself.  "If  either  mind  or  body  were 
stronger  there  would  be  hope  ;  but  as  it  is — I  must 
trust  her  to  God,  though — He  can  bring  her  through 
this  bitter  trial,  and  restore  her  fading  health,  and 
give  that  vigour  of  mind  which  is  so  essential  to 
earthly  peace  and  daily  contentment.  He  can,  I 
know — I  never  doubted  it — but  will  He  ?  Ah,  that 
is  a  question  I  have  no  right  to  ask.  God's  part  is 
to  do  as  pleases  Him  best  ;  to  work  out  in  His  own 
time  and  in  His  own  way  His  sovereign  wisdom. 
It  is  mine  to  be  quiet,  and  to  trust  Him  implicitly, 
and  wait  till  He  show  me  what  it  is  that  I  should 
do  in  this  matter  !  " 

And  meanwhile  Dr.  Thwaites  was  philosophising 
after  his  own  fashion :  and  just  as  Mildred  brought 
her  reverie  to  a  conclusion,  he  burst  out  with  the 
result  tf  his  musings. 

"  Miss  Milly,  of  all  the  mistakes  that  people  make 


THE  DOCTOR  ON  LOVE  AFFAIRS.     327 

in  tliis  troublesome  world  of  ours,  there  is  not  one 
more  ridiculous  and  more  mischievous  than  making 
such  a  fuss  about  'first  love,'  as  poets  and  novelists 
reverently  name  it.  I  just  wish  that  for  one  gene- 
ration everybody  could  be  compelled  to  marry  their 
<  first  love.'  The  next  generation  would  be  the 
wiser  for  it,  I  promise  you.  First  love,  indeed ! 
I  saw  mine  the  other  day." 

"  Well,  doctor,'7  said  Mildred,  turning  to  him 
with  an  amused  smile  she  could  not  repress,  "and 
how  did  you  feel  ?  " 

"  Shocked,  Miss  Milly!  I  hadn't  seen  her  since 
we  parted  thirty-five  years  ago,  and  I  said  to  myself, 
quoting  '  Locksley  Hall,'  with  a  trivial  alteration, 
' 1  am  shamed  thro'  all  my  nature  to  have  loved  so 
cross  a  thing  ! '  She  has  seven  children  and  three 
grandchildren.  She  has  a  thin,  meek,  subdued  hus- 
band, who  goes  about,  poor  creature,  like  a  cat  on 
sufferance ;  she  has  worried  him  almost  out  of  his 
senses ;  she  has  alienated  her  sons  and  daughters ; 
she  scolds  the  maids,  and  chides  the  man,  and  makes 
even  the  very  dogs  and  the  cocks  and  hens  tremble 
at  her  voice !  Ah,  how  gla£  I  was  that  we  fell  out 
over  a  green  silk  dress  and  a  yellow  spencer !  She 
might  have  been  Mrs.  Thwaites  at  this  very  moment ! 
"What  an  escape !  Bless  that  dress  and  that  spencer 
thing  !  I  wish  I  had  them  in  my  own  house  ;  I  would 
keep  them  in  a  glass  case  out  of  reverence  and  pure 
gratitude.  First  love  ! — first  fiddlesticks,  I  say !  " 


328  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

"If  you  say  first  fancies,  I  think  you  will  ba 
nearer  the  truth,  Dr.  Thwaites.  I  don't  believe  in 
a  multiplicity  of  loves ;  there  may  be  any  number  of 
fancies,  more  or  less  violent ;  and  some  people,  I  am 
sure,  fritter  away  all  their  best  feelings  in  these 
fancies,  and  have  consequently  no  heart  left  for  a 
pure  and  true  love,  such  as  is  a  glory  and  an  honour 
to  any  right-minded  man  or  woman !  Fancies  are 
foolish  things,  and  may  be  laughed  at  accordingly ; 
but  love  is  a  sacred  thing,  about  which  we  have  no 
right  to  jest  or  to  trifle." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Miss  Mildred,  I  will  not 
jest  again  on  this  subject.  You  are  quite  right ;  I 
wish  there  were  more  young  ladies  of  your  way  of 
thinking ;  but  in  most  families  love  is  either  a 
tabooed  theme  of  conversation,  or  else  it  is  degraded 
into  the  ignoble  and  very  unworthy  pastime  of  flirta- 
tion. If  young  people  were  brought  up  to  think 
more  sensibly  about  what  is  sure,  some  day  or  other, 
to  concern  them,  there  would  be  fewer  unhappy 
marriages.  But  mothers  are  in  fault ;  that's  where 
it  is;  mothers  don't  do  their  duty.  Why  don't 
they  teach  their  young  daughters  that  an  engage- 
ment of  marriage  is,  next  to  the  securing  of  one's 
personal  salvation,  the  most  sacred  and  solemn  act 
of  a  lifetime  ?  But  they  don't  know  it  themselves, 
half  of  them.  If  you  were  an  elderly  physician,  in 
good  practice,  Miss  Milly,  you  would  be  heartily 
sick  of  silly,  frivolous,  affected,  worldly  women." 


THE   DOCTOR   ON   LOVE  AFFAIRS.  329 

By  this  time  they  reached  the  bridge,  and  the 
doctor,  who  had  still  one  or  two  professional  visits 
to  make,  bade  her  good  evening  and  went  on  his 
own  way,  and  she  pursued  hers  up  the  street,  glad  to 
be  relieved  from  the  necessity  of  listening  and  re- 
plying, and  feeling  very  tired  both  in  body  and 
mind.  When  she  reached  home  she  found  that 
Alfred  and  Katty  and  the  children  were  gone  for  a 
walk ;  Mrs.  Lillingstone  was  reading  a  new  book 
that  Mrs.  Herbert  had  sent  to  her  that  very  after- 
noon, and  Helen  lay  on  the  sofa  half  asleep,  with 
the  newspaper  in  her  hand,  and  Milly  thought  that 
she  looked  slighter,  more  fragile,  and  more  worn 
than  ever. 

She  roused  up,  however,  when  Mildred  came  in, 
and  beckoned  her  to  the  chair  by  her  sidej  and  bade 
her  tell  her  all  the  news,  and  how  the  old  women  at 
Hasleslack  were,  and  whether  the  fields  were  reaped 
on  the  banks  of  Keir. 

"  All  the  news !  "  Mildred's  heart  sickened 
within  her  as  she  looked  into  the  soft,  dark,  mourn- 
ful eyes  that  met  hers  with  such  an  innocent  con- 
fiding trust ;  she  could  hardly  keep  back  the  tears 
that  would  at  once  have  betrayed  emotion.  But  she 
made  a  strong  effort,  and  drove  back  the  rising  flood, 
and  proceeded  to  tell  the  invalid  many  little  un- 
important trifles,  that  were  fain  to  interest  one  who 
saw  so  little  of  the  outer  world.  At  last  Helen 
asked  her  if  she  had  finished  the  water-colour  draw- 


330  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

ing  of  the  eastern  e-nd  of  the  minster,  on  which  she 
had  been  employed  for  some  days.  Mildred  had 
finished  it ;  she  had  put  the  finishing  touches  to  her 
work  that  morning  before  Helen  came  down,  and  it 
was  lying  now  in  her  own  room,  from  whence  she 
volunteered  to  fetch  it  for  her  sister's  inspection. 

She  was  absent  from  the  drawing-room  for  nearly 
a  quarter  of  an  hour,  for  several  things  happened  to 
detain  her.  As  she  returned  she  paused  awhile  at 
the  back  hall-door,  thinking  on  her  conversation 
with  Dr.  Thwaites,  and  wondering  whether  there 
really  was  any  truth  in  the  report  which  had  reached 
him  at  Harrop.  One  thing  she  resolved  upon,  that 
no  more  newspapers  should  be  placed  within  Helen's 
reach,  till  she  or  Katty  had  first  skimmed  them  over, 
to  discover  whether  among  the  "  marriages  in  high 
life  "  the  one  they  dreaded  to  see  might  be  spoken 
of  as  "  already  arranged."  There  was  nothing  else 
to  be  done.  Helen  saw  so  few  strangers  ihat  there 
was  little  danger  from  that  source,  and  Mrs.  Herbert 
and  the  Goldings  would  refrain  as  carefully  as  them- 
selves from  any  abrupt  disclosure  of  such  painful 
tidings. 

With  one  look  at  the  bright,  flowery  garden, 
Mildred  turned  away  and  went  back  to  her  sister's 
couch.  Mrs.  Liliingstone  was  still  absorbed  in  her 
book,  and  Helen  lay  with  her  eyes  closed,  and  the 
newspaper  still  in  her  hand.  Mildred  bent  over  her 
to  see  if  she  slept,  but  there  was  something  in  the 


THE  DOCTOR  ON  LOVE  AFFAIRS.     331 

quiet  face  that  was  not  slumber,  and  which  made 
Milly's  heart  beat  painfully.  She  looked  up,  and  at 
that  glance  Milly  divined  the  truth. 

"What  is  it,  Helen  dear?"  she  asked,  with  an 
assumption  of  calmness  which  she  was  very  far  from 
feeling.  Helen  took  up  the  paper,  and  without  a 
word  pointed  to  one  particular  paragraph.  Mildred 
read : — 

"On  the  20th  instant,  at  St.  George's,  Hanover 

Square,  by  the  Eight  Eeverend  the  Bishop  of  "W 

assisted  by  the  Honourable  and  Eeverend  Edgar 
Blandville,  brother  of  the  bride,  the  Eev.  Arthur 
Lascelles,  M.A.,  Eector  of  Elston-Magna,  to  the 
Lady  Isabella  Maria  Blandville,  second  daughter  of 
the  Earl  of  Southcombe." 

There  was  silence  when  Mildred  laid  down  the 
paper ;  she  scarcely  dared  to  look  at  Helen ;  but 
when  she  turned  towards  her,  so  placid  was  the 
brow,  so  untremulous  the  lip,  that  she  could  scarcely 
believe  that  the  dreaded  moment  of  disclosure  had 
come  and  passed  over.  There  was  only  one  thing 
that  showed  there  had  been  any  cause  of  discom- 
posure— a  bloom,  richer  and  deeper  than  had  ever 
visited  Helen  in  her  best  days,  glowed  now  on 
her  sunken  cheek,  and  gave  a  brilliancy,  strange, 
sad,  and  unearthly,  to  her  dark  and  mournful  eyes. 

"Helen!  my  darling!  my  best  Helen!"  whis- 
pered Mildred,  "  don't  grieve  about  it ;  he  was  not 
worthy — you  are  better  without  him." 


332  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

"  Yes,  much  better,"  replied  Helen,  quietly;  "only 
don't  call  him  unworthy,  Milly ;  he  may  be,  but  I 
cannot  bear  to  believe  it ;  and — and  since  all  was 
quite  over  between  us,  why  should  he  not  choose 
another  ?  I  hope  he  will  be  happy,  v ery  happy  ! 
He  should  be  if  I  could  make  him  so." 

"  And  you  forgive  him  with  all  your  heart  ?  " 

"With  all  my  heart;  at  the  very  first  I  forgave 
him.  Yes,  I  hope  he  is  going  to  be  happy  !  He  has 
the  living  of  Elston-Magna,  you  see,  that  was  in 
Lord  Southcoinbe's  gift." 

Mildred  was  amazed  and  half  frightened  at  Helen's 
calmness.  Pain,  fain  would  she  have  construed  that 
tranquil  tone  and  manner  into  rising  indifference ; 
but  no,  she  knew  Helen  too  well,  it  could  not  be ; 
and  some  instinct  told  her  that  this  astonishing 
composure  was  infinitely  more  to  be  dreaded  than 
the  wildest  storm  of  lamentation,  or  the  deepest 
passion  of  tears. 

The  sisters  were  alone,  for  Mrs.  Lillingstone  had 
stepped  into  the  garden  with  her  book,  and  Helen 
said  she  would  go  to  bed  at  once,  as  she  did  not  wish 
to  be  present  when  Mildred  told  them  what  had 
happened.  The  last  thing,  Milly  bent  down  to  kiss 
her  sister,  and  whispered  "God  bless  you,  darling, 
and  give  you  strength !  " 

Helen  made  no  answer,  but  she  wrung  Mildred's 
hand  with  a  force  that  was  painful  to  endure. 


THE  SECRET  OF  STRENGTH.       333 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  SECKET  OF  STEENGTH. 

LIKE  all  other  sweet  and  pleasant  things,  Alfred's 
visit  drew  to  a  close ;  the  last  day,  the  last  evening, 
the  last  hour  came,  and  there  was  nothing  to  be 
done  but  to  exchange  embraces  and  farewells,  and 
leave  quiet  Oldminster,  for  busy,  tumultuous  Liver- 
pool. 

"  Make  haste  and  get  well,  Helen!"  was  his 
parting  injunction  to  his  invalid  sister,  when  on  the 
morning  of  his  departure  he  came  up  to  her  room  to 
say  good-bye ;  and  Helen  smiled  faintly,  and  said 
she  would  do  her  best.  So  Alfred  came  down-stairs 
in  good  spirits  about  her,  and  with  a  firm  persuasion 
that  now  that  all  suspense  was  finally  over,  and 
Arthur  Lascelles'  fate  irrevocable,  she  would  gradually 
recover  peace  of  mind  and  health  of  body. 

But  as  the  weeks  passed  on,  and  summer  waned 
into  autumn,  Helen  in  nowise  grew  better  and 
stronger.  She  was  always  placid  and  quiet — at 
least  when  others  were  by — and  she  seldom  suffered 


334  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

any  pain,  or  complained  of  anything  beyond  extreme 
languor  and  debility;  but  day  after  day  she  rose 
later,  and  when  down- stairs ,  confined  herself  more 
and  more  to  the  sofa,  which  she  now  scarcely  ever 
left. 

At  length  it  became  a  regular  thing  to  help  her  to 
dress  at  noon,  and  to  undress  her  at  night ;  and  one 
evening  she  found  herself  so  feeble,  that  she  was  glad 
to  allow  Mr.  Golding,  who  had  dropped  in  for  a  chat, 
to  carry  her  up- stairs.  The  next  day,  she  declined 
coming  down  at  all,  and  'Dr.  Thwaites,  when  he 
called,  did  not  press  her  to  leave  her  room.  Yet 
still  Mrs.  Lillingstone  hoped  that  a  favourable  change 
would  take  place,  and  as  no  positive  disease  existed, 
it  seemed  but  reasonable  to  believe  that  no  real 
danger  was  to  be  apprehended.  One  day,  however, 
Dr.  Thwaites  told  Katty,  that  he  was  so  dissatisfied 
with  Helen's  progress — which  was,  in  fact,  no  pro- 
gress at  all,  but  evident  retrogression — that  he  wished 
her  to  have  further  advice,  and  that,  with  Mrs.  Lil- 
lingstone's  permission,  he  would  bring  a  celebrated 
physician  from  Fleetbridge  to  see  her,  and  to  hold 
consultation  with  himself. 

The  Eleetbridge  doctor  came  accordingly,  and  then 
they  all  knew  the  truth — Helen  was  dying,  and  all 
hope  of  recovery  had  passed  away  !  Dr.  Berry  said 
what  Dr.  Thwaites  had  said  before  him,  that  immo- 
derate indulgence  in  distress  of  mind,  acting  upon  a 
naturally  feeble  constitution,  had  done  the  irrevocable 


THE  SECKET  OF  STRENGTH.       335 

mischief.  Had  Helen  been  stronger  in  mind,  her  health 
might  have  suffered,  but  no  permanent  harm  would 
have  ensued ;  had  she  been  stronger  in  body,  she 
might  have  fretted  on  for  years  into  a  premature 
old  age.  Hers  was  one  of  those  cases  where  the 
physical  and  mental  weaknesses  act  constantly  upon 
each  other,  till  mind  and  body  are  alike  exhausted, 
and  disease  and  dissolution  are  the  consequence. 

It  was  a  beautiful  September  day,  and  the  windows 
of  Helen's  room  were  thrown  wide  open ;  she  herself 
was  dressed  and  lying  on  the  couch,  where  she  could 
see  the  flowery  garden  below,  the  dark  woods  beyond 
the  town,  the  purple  moors,  and  the  wavy  hills 
beyond  them. 

Mildred  was  alone  with  her,  sewing  diligently  at 
some  coarse  plain  work. 

"  Milly,  do  you  never  tire?"  asked  Helen  at 
length,  after  she  had  for  some  minutes  watched  in 
silence  her  sister's  busy  fingers. 

"Tire,  dear?  Oh,  yes,  I  am  often  as  good-for- 
nothing  as  you  can  imagine,  and  I  am  tired  now  of 
pushing  this  miserable  needle  in  and  out  of  the 
calico.  I  will  put  it  away,  for  I  have  done  the  task 
I  gave  myself  after  breakfast,  and,  if  you  like,  1  will 
read  to  you,  mavourneen" 

"  Ah  do,  for  I  am  very  tired,  Milly — very  tired  of 
lying  here,  and  watching  the  butterflies  and  the  bees 
come  and  go,  and  the  shadows  of  the  clouds  float 
over  the  moors  and  the  hills — 


336  THE    LILLINGSTONES. 

*  I  arn  weary  of  the  trees  a  waving  to  and  fro — 
Of  the  steadfast  skies  above,  the  running  brooks  below  ; 
All  things  are  the  same,  but  I — only  I  am  dreary, 
And,  mother,  of  my  dreariness,  behold  me  very  weary.' " 

A  volume  of  Mrs.  Barrett  Browning's  poems  lay 
on  the  table.  Helen  had  been  reading  the  "  Lay  of 
the  Brown  Rosarie."  The  deep  sadness  of  her  gaze, 
the  mournful  intonation  of  her  voice,  went  to  Mil- 
dred's heart;  there  was  so  much  she  wanted  to  say 
to  Helen,  and  latterly  she  had  begun  to  fear,  so  little 
time  to  say  it  in;  and  this  morning  she  thought 
Helen  was  disposed  for  conversation,  and  they  would 
probably  be  alone  for  an  hour  or  two,  as  Mrs.  Lilling- 
stone,  Katty,  and  Alice,  were  gone  to  pay  a  visit  on 
the  Specleton  Road.  And  yet,  how  to  mention  the 
subjects  on  which  she  was  so  anxious  to  speak  she 
hardly  knew,  for  Helen  had  latterly  shown  an 
•unaccountable  reserve  whenever  religious  topics  were 
introduced,  relapsing  into  taciturnity  even  when  most 
pressed  to  answer  a  question,  or  to  give  an  opinion. 
Mildred  took  up  the  volume  of  poems,  wishing  it 
were  her  own  little  well-worn  Bible ;  but  fearing 
abruptly  to  propose  the  exchange,  she  opened  at  the 
place  where  Helen  had  been  reading,  and  read  aloud — 

"  And  were  it  wisely  done, 

If  we,  who  cannot  gaze  above,  should  walk  the  earth  alone  ? 
If  we,  whose  virtue  is  so  weak,  should  have  a  will  so  strong, 
And  stand  blind  on  the  rocks  to  choose  the  right  path  from  the 

wrong : 

To  choose,  perhaps,  a  love-lit  hearth,  instead  of  Love  and  Heaven— 
A  single  rose  for  a  rose-tree,  which  beareth  seven  times  seven  ? 


THE  SECRET  OF  STRENGTH.       337 

A  rose  that  droppeth  from  the  hand,  that  fadeth  in  the  breast, 

Until  in  grieving  for  the  worst,  we  learn  what  is  the  best ! 

Then  breaking  into  tears — '  Dear  God ! '  she  cried  *  and  must  we 

see 

All  blissful  things  depart  from  us,  or  ere  we  go  to  THEE  ? 
We  cannot  guess  Thee  in  the  wood,  or  hear  Thee  in  the  wind, 
Our  cedars  fall  around  us,  ere  we  see  the  light  behind  ; — 
Ay  sooth,  we  feel  too  strong  in  weal  to  need  Thee  on  the  road : — 
But  woe  being  come,  the  soul  is  dumb  that  crieth  not  on  God !  *  " 


Mildred  did  not  finish  the  page,  for  Helen's  lips 
were  parted  as  though  she  wished  to  speak,  and  pre- 
sently she  said,  "  That  is  like  me,  Milly.  I  am  so 
like  that  poor  Onora,  who  with  her  wreath  of  flowers 
6  perished  mute,  for  lack  of  root,  earth's  nourishment 
to  reach ! '  And  oh !  this  dreariness,  this  inexpres- 
sible dreariness  and  weariness,  that  shadows  all  that 
is  left  to  me  in  this  world ! " 

"Eut,  darling,  there  is  another  world — a  world  of 
brightness  and  joy  !  " 

"  Not  for  me,  Mildred,  not  for  me  ;  I  have  wasted 
a  lifetime.  What  have  I  done  to  deserve  that  joy 
and  brightness  that  you  speak  of  ?  " 

"  Nothing,  dearest!  it  is  a  free  gift  to  you,  if  you 
will  but  have  it ;  you  may  have  it  without  money 
and  without  price !  " 

"  Do  you  know,  Milly,  I  believe  I  have  wasted 
life  even  more  than  other  thoughtless  people.  It  is 
not  only  that  I  have  lived  nearly  twenty-four  years 
in  the  world  without  serving  God,  or  doing  good  to 
men,  but  I  have  indulged  in  morbid  sorrow  and  vain 
z 


338  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

regret.  I  "have  cherished  a  sad,  dreary  grief,  till  I 
have  undermined  every  foundation  of  health  ;  I  have 
felt  a  certain  complacency  in  suffering,  and  fading 
aw.iy  under  the  heavy  pressure  of  my  trial ;  I  have 
neglected  common  prudence  and  common  regard  for 
my  bodily  welfare ;  I  have  never  striven  to  bear  and 
to  endure,  I  could  not.  I  lived  in  an  unreal  world, 
where  all  was  passion  and  poetry,  and  what  I  fancied 
to  be  exalted  sentiments  ;  and  now — now,  Milly,  the 
undisciplined,  unchastened  spirit  has  worn  out  the 
poor,  frail,  human  tabernacle ! " 

"I  have  thought  you  very  patient,  very  enduring 
of  late,  especially  since " 

"Ko,  it  was  not  patience,  only  the  dull  apathetic 
submission  of  despair.  Milly,  when  I  seemed  so 
quiet  and  so  resigned,  it  was  only  because  I  was 
hopeless,  stunned,  almost  sullen.  I  never  said  with 
my  lips  or  in  my  heart,  *  Thy  will  be  done  ! '  If  I 
could  have  said  that,  I  don't  know,  but  I  think  I 
could  have  borne  it  more  easily." 

"  And  cannot  you  say  so  now,  dearest  ?  Oh,  can't 
you  believe  that  your  Heavenly  Father  has  ordered 
it  all — ordered  it  in  mercy  and  in  love  ?  Cannot  you 
trust  Him  ?  " 

"Yes,"  said  Helen  slowly,  "I  can  sometimes; 
just  at  this  moment  I  do ;  and  oh,  it  is  such  a  feeling 
of  rest  when  I  can  really  give  up  my  own  will,  and 
be  content  and  pleased  to  lie  passive  in  God's  hands  ! 
But  oh,  Miliy,  you  will  never  know  what  it  is  to 


THE  SECRET  OF  STRENGTH;       339 

look  back  upon  a  wasted  life,  when  that  life,  through 
one's  own  reckless  wilfulness,  is  drawing  to  a  close  ! 
I  have  plucked  fair  seeming  fruit,  and  fed  on  ashes ; 
I  have  made  idols,  and  I  have  found  them  clay  !  " 

"  But  now,  darling,  you  would  fain  put  your  idols 
aside?" 

"I  think  I  would!  I  am  sure  I  would!  1  am 
like  the  prodigal  son  in  the  parable — all  my  substance 
of  health  and  intellect  have  I  spent;  all  my  peace 
have  I  bartered  for  vain  shadows ;  like  him  I  will 
arise  and  go  unto  my  Father,  and  say  unto  Him, 
*  Father,  I  have  sinned  against  Heaven  and  before 
Thee,  and  I  am  no  more  worthy  to  be  called  Thy 
child!'" 

There  was  a  throb  of  unutterable  thankfulness  in 
Mildred's  heart.  Were  not  the  prayers,  the  wrest- 
lings of  anguish  that  had  risen  up,  morning,  noon, 
and  evening,  and  through  the  solemn  hours  of  the 
dark  night,  on  Helen's  behalf,  about  to  be  answered  ? 

"  There  is  one  thing  I  very  much  wish  to  say  to 
you,  Milly,  and  it  concerns  Alice,"  resumed  Helen, 
after  a  pause,  in  which  Milly  kept  silence,  too  full  of 
wonder  and  gratitude  to  express  herself  in  words. 
"  I  think  I  see  in  her  some  of  the  germs  of  the  same 
disposition  which,  untrained  and  uncontrolled,  has 
been  my  undoing.  She,  too,  is  of  a  romantic  cast  of 
character ;  she,  too,  has  a  tendency  to  feed  her  mind 
entirely  upon  fiction  and  romance,  and  she  will  want 
watching,  checking,  and  guiding." 
z  2 


340  THE  LILLINGSTONES. 

"Yes,  I  have  seen  it;  but  I  little  fancied  that 
you  saw  it  as  well.  Alice  has  a  refined  taste,  and  a 
highly  wrought  imagination,  and  both  of  them  are 
precious  gifts  from  God  Himself;  they  must  be  culti- 
vated, trained,  and  balanced  with  good,  sound  litera- 
ture, and  plenty  of  healthy  occupation." 

"  You  do  not  think  it  would  be  well,  seeing  what 
her  tendencies  are,  to  keep  books — such  books  as  I 
have  revelled  in — entirely  out  of  her  reach  ?  " 

"  I  think  it  would  not  be  Well  at  all.  As  I  said 
before,  a  taste  for  poetry,  a  vivid  appreciation  of  the 
beautiful,  and  a  fertile  imagination,  are  given  by 
God  Himself,  and,  if  carefully  trained,  wisely  regu- 
lated, and  kept  in  due  subjection  to  the  still  higher 
and  holier  instincts  of  our  nature,  they  must  minister 
to  His  glory,  and  to  the  welfare  of  His  creatures. 
I  shall  make  it  a  rule  that  Alice  only  reads  such 
bocks  as  her  elders  provide,  and  I  will  try  always  to 
keep  her  so  well  supplied  that  she  shall  be  under  no 
temptation  to  seek  to  supply  herself  from  other 
sources." 

"Yes;  and  you  will  try  to  make  her  stronger; 
you  will  begin  betimes,  and  arm  her  for  the  strife ; 
you  will  teach  her  wherein  true  grandeur  and  hero- 
ism lies;  you  will  place  before  her  the  highest 
standards." 

1  i  God  helping  me,  I  will  place  before  her  the 
only  high  and  pure,  the  only  safe  standard — that  of 
living  to  the  glory  of  God,  and  in  loving  dependence 


THE  SECEET  OF  STEENGTH.       341 

on  His  will !  Helen,  do  you  remember  my  favourite 
lines,  *  Not  enjoyment,  and  not  sorrow,1  &c.  ?  Eor 
a  long  time  I  made  them  the  key-note  of  many  an 
earnest  musing,  many  a  deep  dream  of  watching  and 
waiting,  and  bearing  and  working ;  but  it  would  not 
do.  The  spring,  the  source,  the  motive-power  must 
lie  deeper  than  anything  that  even  the  glorious 
*  Psalm  of  Life  '  can  teach  us.  One  can't  be  l  a  hero 
in  the  strife/  or  '  let  the  dead  past  bury  its  dead,'  or 
keep  l  heart  within  and  God  overhead ; '  above  all, 
one  cannot  *  learn  to  labour  and  to  wait'  of  one's 
own  self,  and  in  one's  own  strength;  and  it  is  of 
little  avail  that  '  each  to-morrow  find  us  farther 
than  to-day,'  unless  it  find  us  farther  on  the  heavenly 
road,  farther  from  the  spirit  of  the  world  and  from 
our  own  old  selves,  and  nearer  the  blessed  end  of 
the  journey — the  race  that  in  the  name  of  Jesus 
Christ  all  may  try,  and  all  may  win !  You  see,  if  I 
were  going  to  Eleetbridge,  it  would  be  worse  than 
useless  if  every  minute  found  me  farther  and  farther 
on  the  Harrop  road.  I  might  be  resolute  and  patient 
and  brave,  but  it  would  avail  me  very  little  if  all 
the  while  I  were  pressing  forward  in  the  wrong 
direction." 

"  Oh,  I  have  not  been  resolute  or  brave,  or  walk- 
ing in  the  right  paths  either!  "  said  Helen,  sighing 
deeply.  "But,  Milly,  I  thought  you  were  fonder 
than  ever  of  your  old  friend  Longfellow." 

"  And  so  I  am ;  he  is  a  true  poet,  and  the  music 


342  THE   LILLEslGSTONES. 

of  his  soul  is  grave,  noble,  inspiriting,  and  cheering. 
When  I  have  been  reading  his  stanzas,  I  feel  as  if 
I  had  been  taking  tonics,  or  inhaling  sea-breezes. 
But,  Helen,  if  I  did  not  know  where  the  real  secret 
of  strength  lies — if  I  had  never  known  another  and 
a  deeper  and  holier  teaching — I  don't  quite  know, 
but  I  am  afraid  Longfellow  might  have  done  me 
harm  ;  I  should  have  striven  and  striven,  and  borne 
and  suffered,  and  at  the  last, 

'  By  the  road-side  fallen  and  perished, 
Weary  with  the  march  of  life ! ' " 

"  Mildred,"  said  Helen  at  length,  "  I  cannot 
help  wondering  how  it  will  be,  if  ever  a  deep  heart- 
sorrow  comes  to  you,  Do  you  know,  I  sometimes 
wish — is  it  not  wickedly  selfish? — that  you  knew 
something  of  the  pain  and  the  aching  and  the  weary 
sadness  of  hope  deferred,  and  waning,  and  finally 
dying  out.  So  far  your  path  has  been  so  calm,  so 
placid ;  your  sorrow  has  been  for  others,  not  for 
yourself." 

Mildred  hesitated  a  moment ;  she  turned  crimson, 
and  then  pale.  At  last  she  said,  "Helen !  you  don't 
know — perhaps  I  ought  to  have  told  you — but  my 
path  is  not  so  cloudless  as  you  have  believed.  There 
is  something  that  comes  oftentimes  between  me  and 
the  sunshine — something  that  presses  heavily  on  my 
heart,  and  that  is  my  own  care,  and  no  one  else's. 
At  first  I  tried  to  forget  it,  and  to  cast  it  from  me, 


THE  SECRET  OF  STRENGTH.       343 

but  I  soon  found  that  did  not  answer  at  all ;  and 
then  it  occurred  to  me  that  I  was  trying  to  shun  my 
cross,  instead  of  taking  it  up  and  bearing  it  quietly 
and  cheerfully;  so  I  strove  to  throw  it  aside  no 
longer,  and  since  then  I  have  been  much  happier, 
for  the  cross  meekly  borne,  is  not  half  so  heavy  or  so 
painful  as  the  cross  imposed." 

"  Do  you  remember  that  old  seal  that  Bertha  used 
to  have  ?  Its  motto  was  l  No  cross,  no  crown.' >: 

"  Many  and  many  a  time  I  have  thought  of  it !  " 

""Well,  the  cross  is  for  time  only,  the  crown  for 
eternity.  Milly,  I  think  I  know  what  your  cross 
is.  I  have  been  very  stupid.  I  have  been  so  en- 
grossed with  my  own  sorrow,  that  I  have  had  no 
thought  for  others ;  but,  Milly  dear,  it  will  all  come 
right  in  the  end ! " 

"Will  it,  darling?  But  we  will  not  talk  about 
it,  please.  There  are  some  things  that  are  better 
undiscussed  and  unexplained.  Sometimes  there  is 
strength  and  safety  in  silence.  I  spoke  to  you 
because  I  thought  it  might  comfort  you  to  know 
that  I  have  not  been  talking  about  what  I  never 
felt." 

"It  is  selfish,  but  it  does  comfort  me.  It  is 
sweet  to  think  you  can  feel  with  me,  as  well  as  for 
me.  Sympathy  is  so  very,  very  precious." 

"  Yes ;  and  there  is  One  who  alivays  sympathises. 
Human  sympathy  may  fail,  or  tire,  or  be  altogether 
lacking;  but  His  sympathy  is  sure  and  steadfast, 


344  THE  LILLINGSTONES. 

and  soothing  above  all  that  heart  can  imagine. 
Earthly  ears  may  tire  of  the  oft-told  tale ;  He  never 
tires,  and,  come  what  may,  we  can  go  and  tell  Him 
without  a  fear  of  coldness,  or  misconstruction,  or  re- 
proof;  for  He  is  'the  same  yesterday,  to-day,  and 
for  ever ! '  " 


SUNRISE.  345 


CHAPTER  VII. 

SUNBISE. 

A  FEW  days  more  brought  Bertha  and  her  husband 
to  Oldminster,  for  Katty  wrote  to  say  that  unless 
they  came  soon  they  might  never  see  Helen  again  in 
this  world.  In  many  ways  Eertha  was  changed; 
Mildred  thought  not  for  the  better.  Her  delicate 
beauty  had  not  worn  well ;  late  hours  and  London 
air  had  faded  the  soft  roses  of  earlier  days,  and 
made  her  look  older  than  she  really  was.  Many  of 
the  Oldminster  people  remarked  that  Mrs.  Granville 
Golding  looked  by  no  means  so  young  or  so  pretty 
as  she  used  to  do ;  and  some  of  them  declared  that 
unless  they  had  known  to  the  contrary,  they  should 
have  supposed  her  to  be  full  thirty  years  of  age. 

No;  Eertha  had  not  worn  well;  there  was  no 
mistake  about  it.  Eut  for  the  advantages  of  dress, 
and  all  the  adjuncts  of  a  perfect  toilet,  Katty  would 
certainly  have  been  considered  the  handsomer  of  the 
two ;  for  though  her  brow  was  saddened  now,  and 
darkened  by  the  shadow  that  rested  on  all  the 
household,  she  retained  the  freshness  and  the  sunny 


346  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

aspect  of  her  early  girlhood.  The  home  circle, 
however,  knew  little  of  the  life  that  Bertha  led. 
Somehow,  after  the  first  few  months  of  her  marriage, 
correspondence  had  gradually  slackened,  and  Bertha, 
when  she  did  write,  which  after  a  while  was  but 
seldom,  gave  but  meagre  and  succinct  accounts  of 
her  own  pursuits,  of  family  detail,  or  of  the  society 
in  which  she  seemed  to  take  inexhaustible  delight. 
"Whatever  might  be  her  general  cleverness,  she 
certainly  had  no  genius  for  composition. 

She  was  greatly  shocked  at  Helen's  altered  ap- 
pearance, and  deeply  touched  too,  for  home  affec- 
tions had  not  quite  died  out  of  her  heart,  and  Helen 
had  always  been  her  favourite  sister.  Still  she 
could  not  bring  herself  to  believe  that  hope  had 
indeed  passed  away,  and  that  Helen's  stay  among 
them  was  only  a  question  of  days  or  weeks. 

On  the  evening  of  her  arrival  she  spent  an  hour 
alone  with  Helen,  who  seemed  for  the  time  a  little 
revived,  and  most  anxious  for  her  sister's  visit. 
The  bright  glance  and  the  clear,  distinct  voice  de- 
ceived Bertha,  and  she  decided  at  once  that  they  had 
been  over  anxious  and  frightened,  that  provincial 
doctors  were  always  inclined  to  view  matters  in 
their  gloomiest  aspect,  and  that  Torquay,  or  perhaps 
Madeira  for  the  winter  months,  would  restore  the 
invalid  to  her  wonted  health  and  vigour. 

She  told  her  so,  as  with  her  chair  drawn  up  close 
to  Helen's  sofa,  she  sat  with  her  hand  locked  in  her 


SUNRISE.  347 

sister's,  and  said  that  after  all  she  looked  much  better 
than  she  had  expected,  and  that  she  felt  sure  a 
winter  in  a  softer  climate,  and  an  able  physician, 
would  bring  back  the  roses  to  her  cheek  once  more. 
But  Helen  smiled  faintly,  and  shook  her  head.  u^o, 
Bertha  dear,"  she  said  quietly,  "that  cannot  be. 
Prom  the  very  commencement  of  my  illness  there 
has  been  no  real  prospect  of  recovery,  and  it  has 
been  my  fervent  wish  and  prayer  that  I  might  die 
here  in  my  own  home,  and  with  all  the  dear  faces 
about  me.  Please  do  not  talk  of  taking  me  away." 

"  But,  Helen  love,  the  very  fact  of  making  up 
your  mind  to  die  will  diminish  your  chances  of 
amendment." 

"  There  are  no  chances — not  now !  Once  it  might 
have  been  different.  God  gave  me  health  and  youth 
and  talents — I  wasted  them  all ;  1  wasted  time,  and, 
last  of  all,  I  wasted  the  life  which  He  bestowed  that 
I  might  do  Him  service,  and  render  Him  the  praises 
which  are  due  ! " 

"  My  poor  dear  Helen !  you  were  sadly  romantic  • 
but  I  never  thought  it  would  come  to  this." 

"Don't  call  it  only  t romantic,'  Bertha.  I  was 
weak,  foolish,  wicked!  Oh,  may  you  never  know 
what  it  is  to  lie  as  I  do,  hastening  hour  by  hour  to 
the  end  of  life,  knowing  that  wilfully  and  sinfully  it 
has  been  wasted — all  and  utterly  wasted !  You  can- 
not think,  Bertha,  how  differently  things  look  when 
you  come  to  stand  on  the  threshold  of  eternity !  "What 


348  THE   LILLISGSTONES. 

children  we  are,  grasping  at  shadows,  rushing  after 
bubbles,  ciying  for  toys  of  an  hour  !  and,  after  all, 
there  is  the  great  Eternity  stealing  nearer  and  nearer 
— how  near  we  never  know,  till  for  us  Time  has  ceased 
to  be ! " 

Bertha  grew  cold  and  pale  as  Helen  spoke ;  that 
dying  voice  seemed  like  a  warning  to  her,  a  message 
from  the  unseen  world  beyond  the  grave.  She  looked 
at  the  solemn  eye  and  the  quiet  brow,  and  the  faded 
features  that  already  were  wasted  and  sharpened  to 
a  death-like  aspect ;  and  the  conviction  crossed  her 
mind  that  she,  too,  had  wasted  life,  and  that  here 
was  one  more  warning  sent  to  call  her  away  from 
the  service  of  the  world  to  the  service  of  Christ ! 

"  I  dare  say,"  she  said  at  last,  "  that  now  every- 
thing earthly  appears  unsubstantial  and  hollow,  and 
of  little  worth?" 

"  In  one  sense,"  returned  Helen,  emphatically, 
"  of  very  little  worth ;  you  cannot  conceive  how 
little !  But  when  I  look  upon  the  past  in  another 
light,  it  seems  to  me  of  incalculable  value,  as  time 
given  me  for  serving  God,  and  doing  that  work  in 
the  world  to  which  every  human  creature  is  called. 
I  suppose  I  do  but  re-echo  the  words  of  thousands, 
when  I  say,  could  I  but  live  my  life,  or  any  portion 
of  my  life,  over  again,  it  would  be  spent  differently 
• — oh,  how  differently!  " 

"  I  suppose  most  people  feel  so,"  returned  Bertha; 
"  we  are  all  unprofitable  servants!  " 


SUNRISE.  349 

"Yes,  indeed!  But  what  if  one  has  not  been  a 
servant  at  all  ?  And  those  words  were  given  us  to 
check  all  vain-glory  and  self-appreciation,  not  to 
excuse  one's  own  neglect  and  sloth.  I  remember 
once  hearing  some  one  say  that  it  is  when  we  have 
done  ally  we  are  to  count  ourselves  unprofitable 
servants !  " 

"  And,  Helen — tell  me — are  you  content  to  die  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  now  I  am  content !  I  am  content  to  die, 
or  to  live,  just  as  God  pleases.  And  yet  I  think  I 
would  rather  die.  I  am  afraid  I  should  never  be  of 
much  use  in  this  world ;  and  in  that  other  and 
better  world,  where  all  my  evil  self  will  be  put 
away  for  evermore,  I  shall  serve  Him,  and  praise 
Him  fully.  It  is  written,  *  His  servants  shall  serve 
Him,  and  they  shall  see  His  face.'  Oh,  Bertha, 
you  don't  know  how  weary  I  have  been !  " 

"Do  I  not?  "  asked  Bertha,  bitterly,  her  genuine 
feeling  getting  the  upper  hand  of  pride  and  habitual 
repression.  "Oh,  Helen,  you  are  not  more  weary 
than  I !  I  have  all — more  than  in  my  wildest 
dreams  of  girlhood  I  ever  pictured  I — I  have  great 
wealth,  every  luxury  that  money  can  purchase ;  I 
have  position,  influence,  health,  and  youth;  yes,  I 
am  only  twenty-two  years  of  age — there  may  be 
more  than  fifty  years  of  unsatisfying  life  before  me ; 
I  have  a  kind  and  generous  husband,  and  lovely 
children ;  and  still  I  have  never  been  happy,  never 
discovered  the  secret  of  true  happiness — everything 


350  THE  LILLINGSTONES. 

seems  to  me  a  sham,  a  mere  unreality,  that  will  pie- 
sently  pass  away  and  be  seen  no  more  !  " 

"  Don't  you  see  why  it  is,  Bertha  ?  /  see  it,  now 
that  death  has  opened  my  eyes.  !N"o,  I  will  not 
say  that :  I  see  it,  because  God's  Holy  Spirit  has 
taught  me  wherein  is  the  secret  of  true  and  abiding 
happiness.  Unless  He  is  the  centre  of  the  soul,  the 
Source  of  all,  and  the  King  of  the  heart,  we  try 
vainly  to  rest  tranquilly  and  to  be  satisfied !  One 
person  pursues  one  phantom,  and  another  another, 
as  his  chief  good.  You  have  cared  for  worldly  great- 
ness and  worldly  riches  ;  I  have  cared  for  an  ideal 
standard,  for  earthly  love  and  earthly  beauty ;  and 
we  are  both  miserably  disappointed !  Too  late  to 
repair  my  error,  I  have  discovered  my  own  mistake. 
I  can  only  beg  God,  for  Christ's  sake,  to  forgive  me 
my  sins,  and  let  the  righteousness  of  His  Son  be 
mine,  so  that  I  come  not  into  condemnation !  But 
you,  dear  Bertha,  have  life  still  before  you — will  you 
not,  warned  by  my  example,  turn  from  idols  to  serve 
the  living  God  ?  Oh,  do  not  let  life  be  wasted  any 
longer ! " 

"  T  am  not  wasting  life,  I  hope,"  said  Bertha, 
gently,  but  in  flat  contradiction  to  her  own  convic- 
tions. "  I  have  many  duties,  and  I  hope  I  fulfil 
them,  as  a  wife,  a  mother,  and  a  mistress.  I  have 
many  responsibilities,  and  I  trust  they  are  not  dis- 
regarded •  " 

"But   how   are   they  fulfilled?"   asked  Helen, 


SUNRISE.  351 

earnestly.  "  For  wlio'se  sake,  and  for  whose  glory  ? 
Ah !  forgive  me,  Bertha,  it  is  no  romance  that  the 
dying  see  more  clearly  and  truly  than  others ;  and 
I  see  what  I  never  guessed  before.  I  gain  in  one 
silent,  solitary  hour  the  experience  of  years,  and  I 
know  that  what  is  not  done  to  God's  glory,  is  done 
amiss,  and  the  time  that  is  occupied  in  the  doing,  is 
wasted — utterly  wasted !  " 

"But,  Helen,  who  can  bear  such  hard  sayings? 
who  can  act  up  to  such  a  standard  ?  " 

"No  one !  No  one  ever  did  or  could  live  out  the 
Christian  life  in  its  full  purity  and  perfection,  save 
One — He  who  fulfilled  the  law  to  its  utmost  demand ; 
but  it  is  much  to  keep  the  standard  before  one,  and  to 
strive  to  live  holily,  consistently,  and  unselfishly,  in 
this  present  evil  world !  Bertha,  I  cannot  say  much 
more — do  not  be  vexed  with  me,  for  I  felt  that  I 
must  say  so  much  to  you,  and  remember  I  do  not  say 
it  of  myself :  I  have  been  taught  the  truth  !  " 

"  By  Milly  ?  "  asked  Bertha. 

"  By  a  greater  than  Milly  !  She  and  Katty — God 
bless  them,  now  and  for  ever — led  me  in  some  measure 
to  know  myself,  and  to  look  for  pardon  for  those 
wasted  sinful  days  ;  but  they  could  do  no  more.  It 
was  no  earthly  voice  that  spoke  pardon  and  peace  to 
my  poor  broken  heart ;  that  showed  me  how  deeply  I 
had  erred  my  whole  life  through ;  that  gave  me  at  last 
rest  and  joy  and  hope  that  maketh  not  ashamed  ! " 

Helen  was  fearfully  exhausted,  and  when  Katty 


352  THE   LILLEsTGSTONES. 

came  up-stairs  she  was  fain  to  send  Bertha  away  for 
the  night.  From  that  evening  the  change  for  the 
worse  was  more  apparent  than  ever ;  hour  by  hour 
there  was  an  increase  of  the  unfavourable  symptoms, 
and  weakness  became  utter  prostration.  Yery  soon 
it  was  too  great  an  exertion  to  rise  at  all ;  the  sofa 
was  pushed  away  against  the  wall,  and  the  slight, 
weary  form  pressed  its  cushions  no  more. 

But,  at  the  last,  many  of.  the  mists  and  shadows 
that  had  gathered  round  Helen's  soul  melted  and 
passed  away:  at  eventime  there  was  light,  sweet 
and  glorious  light,  that  waxed  brighter  and  brighter 
as  the  end  drew  nearer.  The  sense  of  pardon,  of 
perfect  free  forgiveness,  filled  her  long-saddened 
heart  with  indescribable  joy;  and  the  peace  that 
passeth  all  understanding  was  hers,  in  all  its  breadth 
and  depth  and  immortality ! 

One  day  she  said  to  Katty,  "  I  see  it  so  clearly  now ; 
there  was  no  harm  in  my  loving  poetry  and  beauty  as 
I  did — the  harm  was  in  loving  them  out  of,  and  apart 
from,  God.  I  did  not  even  understand  half  of  what 
I  loved  so  passionately.  I  saw  only  the  exterior 
beauty.  I  never  felt  the  depths  and  the  real  glory 
of  true  poetry  till  now.  Just  read  those  lines — I 
should  like  to  hear  them  once  more." 

Katty  took  up  the  book;  it  was  a  volume  of 
Mrs.  Hemans7  beautiful  poems,  a  special  favourite 
with  them  all.  It  lay  open  at  one  of  those  sweetest 
of  songs,  those  deep,  passionate,  thrilling  lays,  in 


SUNRISE.  353 

which  the  poetess  poured  forth  the  parting  beauty 
and  power  of  her  wondrous  gift !     "Katty  read — 

A  POET'S  DYING  HYMN. 

"  That  I  have  loved — that  I  have  known  the  love, 
Which  troubles  in  the  soul  the  tearful  springs, 
Yet,  with  a  colouring  halo  from  above, 
Tinges,  and  glorifies  all  earthly  things, 
Whate'cr  its  anguish  or  its  woe  may  be, 
Still  weaving  links  for  intercourse  with  Thee: — 

I  bless  Thee,  0  my  God ! 

u  That  by  the  passion  of  its  deep  distress, 
And  by  the  overflowing  of  its  mighty  prayer, 
And  by  the  yearning  of  its  tenderness, 
Too  full  for  words  upon  their  stream  to  bear, 
I  have  been  drawn  still  closer  to  Thy  shrine, 
Well-spring  of  Love,  the  Unfathomed.  the  Divine, 

I  bless  Thee,  0  my  God ! 

*'  That  hope  hath  ne'er  my  heart  or  song  forsaken, 
High  hope,  which  even  from  mystery,  doubt,  or  dread, 
Calmly,  rejoicingly,  the  things  have  taken, 
Whereby  its  torchlight  for  the  race  was  fed  : 
That  passing  storms  have  on<y  fanned  the  fire, 
Which  pierced  them  still  with  its  triumphal  spire, 

I  bless  Thee,  O  my  God  !" 

"  Thank  you,  Katty,  that  will  do,  I  wanted  to  hear 
it  once  again.  *  Still  weaving  links  for  intercourse 
with  Thee.'  Ah  !  that  is  what  all  pain,  all  desola- 
tion is  meant  to  do :  to  draw  us  still  closer  to  the 
shrine — to  Him  whose  love  never  changes,  and  never 
fails,  who  alone  can  heal  the  broken-hearted,  and  fill 

A    A 


354  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

the  sorrowful  soul  with  a  deep,  chastening  sense  that 
all  at  last  is  well !     ISTow  read  me  the  last  verse." 
And  Katty  read  again : — 

"Now  aid,  sustain  me  still ! — to  Thee  I  come, 
Make  Thou  my  dwelling  where  Thy  children  are ! 
And  for  the  hope  of  that  immortal  home, 
And  for  Thy  Son — the  bright  and  Morning  Star, 
The  Sufferer,  and  the  Victor-King  of  Death,  — 
I  bless  Thee  with  my  glad  song's  dying  breath : 

I  bless  Thee,  0  my  God  ! " 

"  And  now,  Katty,  take  the  book  away,  if  you 
please,  dear,  as  you  took  away  my  Tennyson  and 
Mrs.  Browning  some  days  ago  ;  and  take  all  the  others 
too ;  I  have  done  with  them." 

"  Shall  I  not  leave  the  <  Dove  on  the  Cross  ? '  " 

"  No,  no  !  I  have  done  with  it ;  you  may  take  all 
away  save  one  book — the  Book.  You  can  say  verses 
of  hymns  to  me,  but  I  shall  not  read  any  more  ;  it 
is  the  twenty-third  Psalm,  and  the  fourteenth  of 
John,  and  the  eighth  of  Eomans,  and  the  closing 
chapters  of  the  Revelation  that  I  want  now." 

And  so  Katty  gathered  together  all  poor  Helen's 
treasures — the  books  she  had  named,  and  Keats,  and 
Campbell,  and  even  Keble,  and  the  Lyra  Germanica ; 
and  she  carried  them  away,  as  useless  now  to  her 
who  was  come  to  the  very  verge  of  Jordan.  Perhaps 
it  was  because  poetry  had  been  her  daily  food  instead 
of  an  occasional  refreshment,  that  she  now  put  aside 
what  might  well  have  abode  with  her  to  the  very 
last.  The  Bible  had  been  neglected  and  undervalued 


SUNRISE.  355 

for  books  like  these;  and  pure,  and  good,  and 
heavenly  as  they  were,  she  would  turn  from  them 
all  now,  and  draw  her  hope  and  her  nourishment 
from  the  great  source  of  eternal  truth  alone. 

"  There  is  one  thing  more,"  said  Helen,  the  same 
evening.  "  Often  and  often  since  I  was  confirmed,  I 
have  been  to  the  table  of  the  Lord,  but  never  have  I 
received  the  memorials  of  my  Saviour's  dying  love 
with  a  heart  filled  with  penitence,  and  gratitude,  and 
praise.  I  should  like  Mr.  Herbert  to  come  to  me, 
that  we  might  all  receive  the  bread  and  wine  once 
more,  in  token  of  our  common  faith,  and  of  our  hope 
in  Him  who  loved  us,  and  washed  us  from  our  sins 
in  His  own  blood.  Don't  think  I  want  to  take  the 
Sacrament  as  a  pledge  of  safety,  or  as  something 
whereby  I  may  ensure  my  salvation.  I  only  wish 
to  obey  my  Lord's  injunction  ere  I  depart  and  go 
home,  and  to  unite  in  communion  once  more  with 
those  who  are  nearest  and  dearest  in  this  world. " 

So  on  the  morrow  Mr.  Herbert  came,  and  Mrs. 
Herbert  with  him.  Alfred  was  there  also,  for  he 
had  been  telegraphed  to,  the  day  before,  and  Mrs. 
Lillingstone  and  her  eldest  son,  her  daughters,  Kate 
and  Mildred,  and  the  pastor  and  his  wire,  and  Gran- 
ville  Golding,  and  the  servant  Sarah,  knelt  around 
the  bed  where  Helen  lay,  and  in  blessed  union 
received  the  memorials  of  their  Redeemer's  love. 
The  broken  bread  and  the  cup  of  blessing  passed 
from  lip  to  lip ;  the  song  of  praise  mingled  itself 

AA2 


356  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

with  the  anthems  of  "angels  and  archangels,  and  all 
the  glorious  company  of  Heaven ; "  the  blessing  of 
peace  was  spoken,  and  all  was  over.  One  of  that 
little  congregation  would  drink  no  more  of  the  fruit 
of  the  vine  till  she  drank  it  new  in  her  Father's 
kingdom.  The  others  must  toil  on  patiently  and 
hopefully  till  the  Master  should  hid  them  rest 
from  their  labours,  and  enter  into  the  joy  of  their 
Lord. 

Bertha  did  not  join  with  them  ;  what  had  she, 
whose  heart  was  of.  the  earth — earthy,  to  do  there 
with  those  who  desired  to  have  their  citizenship  and 
their  conversation  in  Heaven ;  she  dared  not  draw 
nigh ;  the  feast  was  not  for  her ;  she  had  not  on  a 
wedding  garment !  And  with  trembling  doubt  and 
many  fears,  came  Mrs.  Lillingstone  to  that  communion 
of  the  dying ;  but  she  rose  from  her  knees  comforted 
and  assured,  feeling  one  with  Him,  the  Head  of  the 
Universal  Church,  and  the  Master  of  the  Feast ;  one 
with  those  beloved  ones,  who  ate  and  drank,  as  in 
Jesu's  presence ;  and  one  with  her,  who  was  going  - 
where 

"  None  may  need 
Temple,  or  shrine,  or  saintly  creed." 

After  that  season  of  holy  communion,  a  great  peace 
seemed  to  reign  over  all  the  house.  Helen  lay  calm  and 
quiet  on  her  bed,  saying  very  little,  but  full  of  hope — 
the  hope  that  entereth  within  the  veil.  Once,  and 
once  only,  she  spoke  of  Arthur  Lascelles.  She  bade 


SUNRISE.  357 

Katty  tell  him,  if  ever  they  met  again,  that  she 
thought  of  him,  and  prayed  for  him  to  the  last ;  that 
her  love,  purified  from  all  its  earthly  passion,  went 
with  her  to  the  spirit-land  ;  that  she  forgave  him  all 
the  pain  and  anguish  he  had  caused  her,  and  that  she 
trusted  to  meet  him  again  in  that  world  where  there 
is  neither  marriage  nor  giving  in  marriage,  hut  where 
love,  deep,  holy,  pure,  and  immortal,  finds  its  full 
fruition.  She  liked  Mildred  to  sit  by  her  side,  and 
whisper  texts  in  her  ear,  and  verses  of  hymns,  and 
precious  words  of  encouragement  and  hope  ;  and  she 
smiled  when  her  mother  bent  over  her,  and  said, 
"  One  in  spirit  still,  dearest  mamma.  You  will 
come  to  me.'* 

It  was  towards  morning  that  Mildred  came  into 
Alfred's  room,  and  bade  him  come  and  give  Helen 
the  parting  kiss.  Bertha  and  her  husband  were  there 
already,  and  Helen  had  looked  the  farewell  and  the 
entreaty  that  she  had  no  strength  to  utter.  He 
stooped  down  for  that  last  embrace,  and  with  great 
difficulty  Helen  murmured,  "  Seek  ye  first  the  king- 
dom of  Heaven."  He  understood  her,  and  answered, 
"Yes,  dearest!  Heaven  first.  I  know  it,  I  feel  it 
now  ;  we  shall  meet  again  in  our  Father's  house." 

And  then  there  were  no  more  words,  but  quiet 
waiting  for  the  merciful  angel,  and  breathless  watch- 
ing on  the  part  of  those  who  felt  his  awful  presence 
weigh  heavily  on  their  hearts.  The  yellow  moon- 
light faded  from  the  sky;  the  hills  rose  cold  and 


358  THE   L1LLIKGSTONES. 

dark  in  the  grey  dawn  ;  the  rosy  light  suffused  the 
horizon ;  redder  and  redder  grew  the  clouds ;  the  sun 
rose  up  in  all  his  glory,  the  herald  of  another  day — • 
and  then — 


u  Her  quiet  eyelids  closed— ?he  had 
Another  morn  than  ours." 


LILLINGSTONE    REVISITED.  359 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

LILLINGSTONE   BEVESITED. 

AND  Helen  was  laid  to  rest  under  the  shadow  of  tho 
grey  minster  walls.  Bertha  and  her  husband  re- 
turned to  Redlands,  and  Alfred  went  back  to  Liver- 
pool ;  and  oh,  how  sad  was  the  diminished  household 
at  Oldminster! 

The  winter  set  in  early  and  very  severe ;  snow  was 
upon  the  hills  not  many  weeks  after  Helen's  death, 
and  when  Christmas  came  it  lay  thick  and  white  on 
her  quiet  grave.  A  mournful  Christmas  it  was,  with 
that  vacant  seat  at  board  and  hearth,  that  might 
never  more  be  filled ;  and  with  those  absent  ones,  far 
away  from  the  home  where  once  they  had  all  been 
united  in  such  pleasant,  loving  bonds.  And  yet  not 
altogether  sad  was  that  broken  circle,  as  its  remain- 
ing members  gathered  round  the  blazing  fire  on  that 
icy,  sunless,  melancholy  twenty-fifth  of  December. 

Mildred  did  not  dwell  on  the  grave  in  the  minster 
yard ;  her  thoughts  passed  on  to  the  glorious  world 
beyond,  whither  Helen  had  gone  before ;  and  brighter 
and  ever  nearer  now  seemed  to  her  the  gathering-time 


360  TEE   L1LLINGSTONES. 

that  was  coming,  when  all  would  be  reunited  in  one 
home,  where  sorrow  and  parting  could  never  come. 
Now  the  passing  years  made  manifold  changes  and 
mournful  breaches ;  it  was  like  a  dream  to  look  back 
to  those  earlier  days  at  Lillingstone,  and  remember 
all  that  had  passed  there,  and  all  the  joy  and  glad- 
ness of  opening  youth,  when  the  family  circle  was 
yet  unbroken,  and  when  the  cares  of  mature  life 
were  alike  unknown  and  unthought  of.  Then  there 
would  be  no  more  changes,  no  more  tears,  no  more 
adieux ;  and  every  Christmas-tide  brought  them 
nearer  to  that  hour  of  restoration  and  perfect  joy. 
And  musing  thus,  Mildred  looked  up,  and  said — 

" '  These  times  and  seasons,  we  Thy  pilgrims  love ; 
They  count  the  miles  our  weary  footsteps  rove 
Upon  the  flinty  road ;  we  list — and  lo ! 
The  way  is  shorter  than  a  year  ago  ! ' " 

Katty  did  not  reply  ;  but  the  pressure  of  the  hand, 
and  the  glance  she  flashed  at  her  sister,  told  how 
sympathetic  was  the  feeling  between  them;  and 
half  in  hope,  half  in  trembling,  their  mother  shared 
the  blessedness. 

Early  in  the  new  year  they  were  cheered  by  a 
passing  visit  from  Alfred;  he  was  on  his  way  to 
Lillingstone  to  make  observations,  collect  evidence, 
and  examine  certain  papers.  But  now  the  excite- 
ment of  such  a  journey  was  not  what  it  would  have 
been  a  few  months  ago  ;  the  prospect  of  failure  was 


LILLINGSTONE   REVISITED.  361 

not  so  terrible,  the  dreams  of  probable  success  not 
so  bright.  With  a  calm  steadiness,  and  a  composure 
of  mind  that  once  would  have  been  unnatural,  Alfred 
Lillingstone  set  out  on  that  cold  January  morning, 
to  take  the  first  steps  towards  the  regaining  of  his 
lost  inheritance.  The  train  by  which  he  travelled 
was  delayed  through  a  tremendous  fall  of  snow,  and 
it  was  not  till  sunset  on  the  following  day  that  he 
reached  his  native  village. 

Lillingstone  was  still  uninvaded  by  railways,  and 
the  last  few  miles  had  to  be  accomplished  by  post. 
It  was  a  clear,  bright  afternoon ;  the  sun  was  going 
down,  large  and  red,  over  the  lonely  Shepperton 
Downs  ;  Alfred  ordered  his  dinner  at  the  well-known 
inn,  the  Lillingstone  Arms,  and  then  strolled  out  to 
take  a  look  at  the  familiar  haunts  of  other  days. 
The  nearest  way  to  the  Hall  lay  through  the  church- 
yard, and  as  he  swung  back  the  little  gate  which 
was  always  open  for  egress  and  ingress,  the  very 
action  and  the  very  click  of  the  latch  reminded 
him  of  his  gay,  careless  boyhood ; — how  long  ago  it 
seemed  !  And  yet,  with  that  grey  tower  before 
him,  those  crumbling  buttresses,  those  bare  woods  in 
the  adjacent  park  of  Lillingstone,  those  fir  groves 
belting  the  misty  hill,  and  that  far  off  sea-line  be- 
tween the  sister  yews  at  the  west  end  of  the  church, 
the  years  of  absence  melted  away,  and  he  could 
have  thought  that  but  a  few  years  had  elapsed  since 
last  he  stood  on  that  frozen  path,  listening  to  the 


362  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

chiming  of  the  old  clock,  and  waiting  to  catch  the 
soft  echo,  as  it  came  reverberating  back  from  the 
hollow,  where  the  rocks  rose  black  and  bare  above 
the  silent  woodlands.  He  stood  there  watching  the 
sun  go  down,  till  the  numbness  of  his  feet  and  fingers 
warned  him  to  proceed,  and  just  as  he  turned  away 
in  the  direction  of  the  little  by-path  that  communi- 
cated with  the  park,  he  saw  that  the  church  door 
was  open,  and  some  one  within. 

He  quickly  entered,  and  found  the  clerk  doing 
something  about  the  font ;  he  came  forward  at  the 
stranger's  entrance;  but  it  was  not  the  old  clerk 
whom  Alfred  had  known  so  well,  but  a  much 
younger  man,  whom  he  did  not  remember  ever  to 
have  seen  before. 

""Want  to  see  the  church,  sir?"  was  the  in- 
stinctive question.  "Getting  rather  dark;  see  it 
better  to-morrow  morning,  sir." 

"I  will  go  round  now,  if  you  please,"  replied 
Alfred,  dropping  a  gratuity  into  the  ready  hand. 
"  But  I  have  been  here  before,  and  I  want  no  attend- 
ance." The  well- contented  clerk  nodded  assent, 
and  went  on  dusting  the  books  and  the  hassocks  in 
the  christening-pew,  while  Alfred  went  up  the 
middle  aisle  and  paused  at  the  large  pew  of  state 
which  had  always  been  the  peculiar  property  of  the 
Lillingstones.  Save  that  the  cushions  were  more 
faded,  the  linings  torn,  and  the  hassocks  more  worn, 
it  looked  much  as  it  did  in  bygone  times. 


LILLINGSTONE   REVISITED.  363 

He  went  in,  and  sat  down  in  his  old  accustomed 
place ;  there  was  the  tall,  ugly  pulpit,  with  its  dusty 
sounding-board,  the  rickety  candle-branches,  the 
dingy  organ-loft,  the  high,  hollow  roof,  and  the 
quaint  wording  of  the  monument  on  the  nearest 
pillar,  "  Sacred  to  the  memory  of  Roger  Ricketts,  of 
Deverell,  Gent.,  and  Dame  Judith  Ricketts,  his 
wife."  He  closed  his  eyes,  and  tried  to  realise  the 
well-remembered  scene  of  the  past :  the  old  rector 

drawling  his 

"  Old  saws, 
Distilled  from  some  worm-cankered  homily ; " 

the  venerable  clerk,  slumbering  peacefully  at  his  desk 
below ;  the  singers  whispering  among  themselves,  and 
carrying  on  consultations  about  the  tunes ;  the  con- 
gregation, in  their  Sunday  clothes,  listening  wearily 
to  the  interminable  discourse  ;  his  father  and  mother 
in  their  respective  places,  and  he  and  the  other 
children,  and  the  French  governess,  and  the  servants 
in  the  side-pews  comporting  themselves  with  out- 
ward reverence,  and  secret  longing  for  the  close  of 
the  service.  And  for  a  moment  he  almost  forgot  the 
present  in  the  past — so  vivid  were  the  reminiscences 
of  those  childish  days,  and  those  long-departed  Sun- 
days in  the  dull,  quiet  church  of  Lillingstone." 

And  as  he  rose  to  pursue  his  way,  and  stood  once 
again  in  the  damp,  chilly  aisle,  he  thought  of  another 
season,  that  in  that  familiar  place  seemed  but  as 
yesterday — the  day  of  his  father's  funeral.  Of  the 


364  THE   LILLING STONES. 

white-robed  rector  coining  up  the  north  aisle,  saying, 
""We  brought  nothing  into  this  world,  and  it  is 
certain  we  can  carry  nothing  out.  The  Lord  gave 
and  the  Lord  hath  taken  away ;  blessed  be  the 
name  of  the  Lord !  "  Of  standing  by  that  open 
grave  in  the  chancel,  and  hearing,  "  Man  that  is 
born  of  a  woman  hath  but  a  short  time  to  live,  and 
is  full  of  misery.  He  cometh  up,  and  is  cut  down, 
like  a  flower ;  he  fleeth  as  it  were  a  shadow,  and 
never  continueth  in  one  stay.  In  the  midst  of  life 
we  are  in  death ;  of  whom  may  we  seek  for  succour 
but  of  thee,  0  Lord,  who  for  our  sins  art  justly  dis- 
pleased ?  "  And  in  those  oft-repeated  words  there 
was  then  an  awful  significance — "In  the  midst  of 
life  we  are  in  death." 

But  the  wintery  twilight  was  rapidly  fading,  and 
the  heir  of  Lillingstone  passed  slowly  on  to  the 
place  where  his  ancestors  were  gathered  together  in 
death.  There  were  the  stately  monuments,  some 
crumbling  away  with  age,  some  yet  bright  with 
the  ancient  gilding  and  colouring  of  innumerable 
coats  of  arms  ;  others  of  more  recent  date ;  and,  last 
of  all,  the  simple  marble  that  recorded  the  death  of 
the  last  master  of  Lillingstone,  Alfred's  own  father. 

He  was  still  gazing  on  the  slab,  and  reading  over 
the  inscription  like  one  in  a  dream,  when  the  clerk, 
having  finished  his  business  of  dusting,  came  up  the 
aisle  into  the  darkening  chancel.  "  Ah,  sir,"  he  ex- 
claimed, "you've  found  out  our  monuments!  Our 


LILLINGSTONE  REVISITED.  365 

church  isn't  as  handsome  or  as  well  kept  as  it  might 
be ;  bnt  there  ain't  no  such  monuments  as  ours  in 
all  the  country  side,  The  Lillingstones,  sir,  were  a 
very  old  family ;  they  used  to  be  De  Lillingstones, 
you  see ;  but  nearer  our  own  times  they  came  to  be 
called  '  the  Lillingstones  of  Lillingstone.'  Maybe 
you  saw  that  grand  old  Hall  as  you  came  up  the  hill 
to  the  churchyard  ?  You  just  catch  the  turrets  and  all 
the  western  side  of  the  building  through  an  opening 
in  the  trees ;  at  this  time  of  the  year,  when  there 
isn't  no  foliage,  you  can  see  great  part  of  the  front. 
Well,  sir,  that's  the  family  seat  of  these  very  Lil- 
lingstones, and  that  tablet  there,  just  before  you, 
is  '  sacred  to  the  memory '  of  the  last  of  'em.  He 
died  awful  sudden,  I'm  told ;  found  dead  in  his 
library;  but  it  was  before  my  time.  I'm  a  Sand- 
mouth  man,  and  I  know  more  of  the  Abberleys, 
you  see,  than  the  Lillingstones  " 

The  Abberleys,  as  Alfred  knew  very  well,  were 
the  persons  tc  whom  Lillingstone  had  been  let. 

"The  last  of  the  Lillingstones?"  asked  Alfred; 
"  I  thought  that  though  the  estates  had  passed  for 
a  time  from  the  family,  there  was  still  an  heir 
living,  who  would  come  back  some  day  or  other." 

"True  for  you,  sir,  and  so  there  is !  I'll  be 
bound  Mrs.  Meriton,  at  the  Lillingstone  Arms,  has 
been  telling  you  all  about  the  family,  and  how  mis- 
fortunate  they've  been.  She  despises  the  Abberleys, 
though  she's  civil  to  them;  but  I  believe  she 


366  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

wouldn't  let  lawyer  Gryde  touch  bit  or  drop  in 
her  house  if  he'd  lay  down  as  many  sovereigns  as 
he  took  mouthfuls !  I  don't  know  anything  about 
the  business  myself,  but  there's  a  many  as  says  the 
old  family  were  ill  done  by.  They  hadn't,  you  see, 
any  notion  of  business;  and  when  they  once  got 
involved,  all  they  did  by  way  of  getting  out  of 
scrapes  only  kept  them  the  closer  in.  The  old 
Lillingstone  of  Lillingstone  was  fond  of  spekilation 
like,  and  got  into  no  end  of  trouble,  and  his  son  went 
much  in  the  same  way ;  but  at  last,  as  he  got  deeper 
and  deeper  in  the  mire,  he  got  mazed  like,  and  left 
everything  to  this  Gryde,  as  my  father  remembers 
a-running  about  the  streets  at  Sandmouth  without 
a  bit  of  shoe  to  his  foot.  And  last  of  all  his  troubles 
was  too  much  for  him,  poor  gentleman  !  The  Lil- 
lingstones  was  always  a  proud  lot,  sir,  as  they'd  a 
right  to  be,  seeing  as  they  was  real  quality ;  and  he 
kept  all  his  misery  to  himself,  and  died,  sir,  as  I 
told  you,  awful  sudden.  The  doctors  called  what 
he  died  of  by  some  fine  name  or  other ;  but  Mrs. 
Meriton,  and  many  another  besides,  says  it  was  a 
broken  heart.  Things  had  come  to  the  worst,  and  he 
knew  he  was  a  beggar,  and  his  heart  broke  there  and 
then,  without  any  more  ado." 

"  And  the  family?" 

"  They  went  away,  sir,  up  in  the  north,  I'm  told ; 
and  nobody's  heard  nothing  of  them  since.  But  Mrs. 
Meriton  tells  me  the  heir  must  be  a  man  grown  by 


LILLINGSTONE   REVISITED.  367 

this  time,  and  she  looks  for  the  day  when  he  and 
madam  and  the  young  ladies  will  come  back  again 
to  claim  their  own.  Lillingstone's  empty  now,  if 
they  do  come ;  the  Abberleys — they're  a  rich  Bristol 
family — fell  out  with  Gryde,  and  some  queer  things 
came  out  in  the  quarrel ;  and  they  went  away  last 
summer,  and  there  has  been  no  word  of  letting  it 
again.  Indeed,  Gryde  is  very  ill,  and  the  doctors 
seems  to  think  he  isn't  long  for  this  world ;  and 
if  he  isn't,  I  only  hope  he'll  make  a  clean  breast  of 
it  before  he  goes.  His  son  is  a  very  decent  young 
man,  he  would  sooner  starve  than  wrong  anybody 
of  a  sixpence,  and  ever  since  he's  been  getting  up 
into  a  man  he  hasn't  seemed  quite  content  with  his 
father's  way;  so  the  people  do  say,  sir." 

The  striking  of  the  clock  roused  the  garrulous 
clerk  to  the  recollection  that  his  "  missis''  would  be 
waiting  tea  for  him,  and  on  this  hint  Alfred  turned 
from  the  shadowy  tombs,  and  with  one  last  lingering 
gaze  through  the  dim  chancel,  followed  his  conductor 
out  of  the  church.  Meanwhile  the  moon  had  arisen, 
and  he  resolved,  before  returning  to  the  inn,  to  take 
one  look  at  the  home  of  his  fathers.  He  crossed  the 
little  fir-spinney  that  belted -the  park  where  it  joined 
the  churchyard,  and,  ere  long,  found  himself  on  the 
great  terrace  that  overlooked  the  gardens 

There  stood  the  stately  mansion,  dark,  cold,  and 
lifeless.  From  its  many  windows  gleamed  no  ray 
of  light ;  its  doors  were  closed  ;  there  was  no  sound 


368  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

of  merriment  or  of  scolding,  as  heretofore,  from  the 
servants'  offices :  all  was  silence,  deep  and  mournful 
as  the  silence  of  the  grave.  He  walked  up  to  the 
closed  door,  and  half  in  expectation,  half  for  the 
sake  of  breaking  the  dead  stillness  of  the  place,  he 
rang  the  bell.  No  one  answered,  and  the  heir  of 
Lillingstone  stood  on  the  threshold  of  his  ancestral 
home,  a  stranger,  with  no  more  power  to  enter  that 
solitary  hall  than  the  poorest  child  in  the  village. 
"When  would  his  feet  cross  that  long-deserted  thresh- 
old ?  when  would  he  stand  by  that  fireless  hearth, 
and  at  that  unspread  and  desolate  board,  the  master 
of  his  alienated  inheritance  ?  Would  it  ever  be  ? 

Yes  !  A  voice  within  his  heart  told  him  to  be  of 
good  courage,  for  that  at  the  last,  right  would  con- 
quer might,  and  his  long-cherished  hopes  be  happily 
fulfilled.  And  standing  there  in  the  cold  bright 
moonlight,  under  the  dark  walls  of  Lillingstone, 
with  the  snowy  sward,  and  the  black  woods  around 
him,  he  bethought  himself  of  that  summer  evening 
in  the  Oldminster  fields,  and  of  Katty's  words  of 
cheer:  "Delight  thyself  also  in  the  Lord,  and  He 
shall  give  thee  the  desires  of  thy  heart.  Commit 
thy  way  unto  the  Lordy  trust  also  in  Him,  and  He 
shall  bring  it  to  pass." 

And  then,  with  a  firm  step,  and  a  purpose  stronger 
than  ever,  he  walked  down  the  avenue  to  the  lodge- 
gates,  and  astonished  the  old  couple  who  lived  there 
by  bidding  them  "  good  night"  in  the  very  tone  of 


LILLINGSTONE   REVISITED.  369 

their  old  master,  the  last  Lillingstone  of  Lilling- 
stone. 

"  It's  his  very  walk  and  his  form,  and  his  very 
swing  of  the  arm !  "  said  the  old  man,  when  he  had 
locked  the  gate  securely;  "  and  to  hear  him  speak, 
it  might  just  be  the  squire  himself;  only  this  man 
had  dark  hair,  and  the  squire  was  as  fair  as  the 
sun." 

" Bless  me!"  said  the  wife,  starting  up  in  her 
excitement ;  "  and  suppose  it  should  be  Master  Alfred 
come  back  to  claim  his  own  again !  I  mind  he  had 
curly  dark  hair  when  he  was  a  lad.  There's  an  old 
saying  that  the  devil  can't  keep  Lillingstone  from 
Lillingstone  longer  than  eight  Christmas  Days." 

"Well-,  if  the  devil  can't,  perhaps  Gryde  can," 
replied  her  husband ;  "  it's  all  one,  I  reckon." 

Meanwhile  Alfred  went  down  the  quiet  village 
street,  past  the  smithy,  where  Mildred  always  used 
to  begin  quoting  Longfellow's  "Village  Blacksmith," 
and  on  to  the  inn,  where  Mrs.  Merriton  was  in  a 
fever  lest  her  visitor's  dinner  should  be  spoiled. 
And  all  through  the  long  evening  he  was  carefully 
examining  papers  and  making  calculations,  and  the 
last  thing,  he  ordered  breakfast  for  eight  o'clock, 
that  he  might  set  off  in  good  time  for  Sandmouth. 

And  when  he  gave  the  order  to  Mrs.  Merriton  her- 
self, she  curtseyed  down  to  the  ground,  and  replied, 
"Our  best  chaise  shall  be  at  your  disposal,  Mr. 
Lilting  stone  !"  He  little  dreamed  how  the  kind- 

B   B 


370  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

hearted  woman  longed  to  throw  her  arms  round  him 
and  kiss  him,  and  cry  over  him  in  right  motherly 
fashion ;  for  many  and  many  a  time  had  the  good 
soul  nursed  the  heir  of  Lillingstone  "  when  dear  Mr. 
Merriton  was  alive,  and  the  -Lillingstone 
in  their  glory." 


COVE    HALL.  371 


CHAPTER  IX. 

COTE   HALL. 

AT  ten  o'clock  on  the  following  morning,  Alfred 
reached  Sandmouth.  There  was  some  little  business 
to  transact  with  an  old  friend  of  his  father*  s,  Mr. 
JSelfield,  a  retired  attorney,  and  once  the  Lillingstone 
man  of  business ;  and  then  he  set  off  for  the  residence 
of  Mr.  Gryde. 

"Can  you  tell  me  where  Mr.  Gryde  lives?"  he 
asked  of  a  baker's  boy,  when,  having  reached  the 
fashionable  suburbs  of  Sandmouth,  where  the  ex- 
lawyer  was  said  to  reside,  he  found  himself  at  fault 
among  so  many  elegant  villas  and  handsome  mansions. 

"  Squoire  Gryde,  d'ye  mean?"  asked  the  staring 
youth. 

"  Yes,  Squire  Gryde,  if  you  like;  Mr.  Gryde,  the 
lawyer.  In  which  of  these  houses  does  he  live  ?  " 

"  In  nane  of  'em,"  was  the  curt  reply. 

"In  nine  of  them?"  asked  Alfred,  in  profound 
astonishment. 

"  In  ne'er  a  one  !  "  returned  the  baker's  boy,  out 
BB  2 


372  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

of  all  patience  at  the  gentleman's  slowness  of  com- 
prehension. "  Squoire  Gryde  be  a  grand  man,  and 
he  don't  live  in  none  of  your  villers  and  cottages, 
but  at  Cove  Hall,  a  mile  farther  on." 

It  was  a  long  mile,  however,  and  Alfred  found 
himself  quite  beyond  the  bounds  of  the  regular  sub- 
urban residences,  and  on  the  open  cliff,  before  he 
saw  any  signs  of  a  mansion  worthy  of  a  gentleman 
who  despised  "  villers  and  cottages."  But  at  length, 
coming  suddenly  down  to  the  shore,  he  found  a  deep, 
well- wooded  cove,  and  in  its  midst  a  handsome  house, 
and  grounds  spreading  far  and  wide,  and  covering 
the  slopes  of  the  declivity — this  was  certainly  Cove 
Hall.  At  the  lodge  Alfred  made  inquiry  whether 
Mr.  Gryde  was  at  home,  and  the  porter  replied  in 
the  affirmative  ;  but  assured  him  that  "the  master 
could  see  no  one,  because  he  was  so  very  ill ;  may- 
hap, however,  Mr.  James  would  do  as  well  ?  " 

So,  when  the  footman  who  answered  the  door 
informed  him  that  Mr.  Giyde  saw  no  one  but  his  own 
family,  Alfred  asked  for  Mr.  James  Gryde,  and  sent 
in  his  card.  He  was  shown  into  a  spacious  drawing- 
room,  superbly  furnished.  On  one  side  were  three 
French  windows,  opening  on  a  lawn  sheltered  by 
stalwart  evergreens,  and  overlooking  the  sea;  and 
at  the  end  of  the  room  a  deep  bay,  looking  into  a 
flower-garden  that  might  be  a  wilderness  of  sweets 
in  summer-time.  The  carpet  and  the  curtains  were 
of  the  most  expensive  description ;  velvet  and  satin 


COVE   HALL.  373 

and  gilding  met  the  eye  at  every  turn,  and  costly 
ornaments  were  scattered  on  every  table  and  shelf 
with  lavish,  if  not  with  tasteful  hand.  Alfred  sur- 
veyed the  glowing  Wilton  carpet,  the  rich  hangings, 
the  grand  "  Collard  and  Collard,"  the  walnut- wood, 
the  satin-wood,  the  papier-mache,  the  tall  mirrors, 
the  luxurious  couches  and  ottomans,  the  Dresden 
porcelain,  the  majolica  vases,  the  graceful  statuettes, 
and  the  profusion  of  wax,  paper,  and  feather  flowers, 
that  abounded  on  all  sides,  with  no  small  astonish- 
ment! And  yet,  notwithstanding  that  no  expense 
had  been  spared  on  the  furnishing  and  ornamentation 
of  the  room,  there  was  an  incongruity  of  colour  and 
object  and  arrangement,  that  betrayed  the  character 
and  the  habits  of  the  owners  of  the  mansion,  telling 
pretty  plainly  how  new  and  strange  to  the  house  of 
Gryde  were  all  these  appliances  of  wealth  and  luxury. 

It  was  a  weary  half-hour  that  Alfred  spent  amid 
these  splendours,  vainly  tiying  to  beguile  the  time 
with  inspecting  a  gorgeously  bound  album,  the 
property  of  "  Clementina  Gryde,"  and  gazing  out  on 
the  leaden  coloured  sea,  and  the  distant  sails  on  the 
horizon's  verge ;  but  as  all  spaces  of  time,  whether 
blissful  or  unblissful,  are  limited,  and  come  to  a 
conclusion,  Alfred  Lillingstone's  weaiy  waiting  was 
over  at  last. 

The  door  opened,  and  there  came  in  a  young  man 
about  the  same  age  as  himself,  looking  rather  abashed 
and  very  grave,  and  speaking  and  moving  nervously. 


374  THE   LTLLINGSTONES. 

11 1  am  sorry  to  say,  sir,  my  father  cannot  see  you; 
his  physicians  prescribe  perfect  quiet,  and  all  visitors, 
without  exception,  are  by  their  desire  excluded.  If 
/can  do  anything — if  you  will  tell  me — "  and  here 
the  young  man's  words  died  away  in  inarticulate 
murmurs,  his  fair  face  grew  crimson,  and  he  vehe- 
mently twisted  round  a  beautiful  cameo  ring  which 
he  wore. 

61 1  Avished  to  see  Mr.  Gryde  on  very  important 
business,"  replied  Alfred.  "  The  fact  is — but  I  dare 
say  you  know  all  about  it — my  father's  affairs  were 
at  one  time  entirely  in  the  hands  of  your  father ;  and 
I  am  anxious  to  hold  some  conversation  with  him  in 
order  to  determine  whether  there  is  any  reasonable 
hope  of  regaining  my  former  position,  either  now,  or 
at  any  more  distant  period  of  my  natural  life." 

There  was  no  reply ;  but  the  cameo-ring  went 
round  and  round  with  increased  violence,  and  the 
youth's  colour  died  away  to  an  ashy  paleness. 
Alfred  continued — 

"You  see,  I  was  a  boy  when  all  this  happened; 
but  ever  since  I  attained  my  majority,  I  have  been 
intending  to  go  thoroughly  into  the  whole  affair. 
I  only  waited  till  I  had  leisure,  and  till  I  had 
acquired  some  knowledge  of  legal  and  monetary 
transactions.  Some  papers  which  I  have  already 
examined  lead  me  to  the  conclusion  that  there  are 
mistakes  which  call  for  immediate  correction ;  there- 
fore, as  your  father  is  too  ill  to  attend  to  business, 


COVE  HALL.  375 

perhaps  you  will  undertake  to  act  for  Mm,  in  con- 
junction with  any  legal  adviser  whom  you  may 
choose  to  name." 

"  I  think,  sir,"  replied  James  Gryde,  "  that  a  legal 
adviser,  on  my  side  at  least,  will  not  be  necessary. 
I  have  studied  law  from  my  childhood,  and  I  can 
attest  the  merits  of  this  case  without  further  assist- 
ance ;  but,  sir — but,  Mr.  Lillingstone,  if  you  will 
wait  a  little  while,  you  may  deal  with  me  as  your 
sole  antagonist.  My  father  is  dying,  and  I  must 
beg — I  cannot,  in  fact,  allow  his  last  hours  to  be 
troubled  with  business  communications !  " 

"  Far  be  it  from  me  to  disturb  the  chamber  of  a 
dying  man,"  returned  Alfred ;  "  but,  sir,  are  there 
not  some  particulars  known  only  to  Mr.  Gryde, 
which,  if  confided  to  you,  would  greatly  simplify 
matters?" 

"  It  may  be  so,"  was  James  Gryde' s  answer ;  "in 
fact,  I  am  sure  it  is  so.  Mr.  Lillingstone,  will  you 
trust  me  ?  I  promise  solemnly  that  you  and  your 
family  shall  suffer  no  further — wrongs  !  You  have 
suffered  enough  already.  I  fear  God,  and  I  value 
integrity  too  highly,  to  forfeit  it  for  the  sake  of  all 
the  filthy  lucre  in  the  universe !  When  my  father  is 
gone  I  shall  claim  only  my  own  rights ;  and  yours 
shall  be  respected,  and  duly  separated  from  mine." 

The  young  man's  words  and  tone  carried  imme- 
diate conviction  to  Alfred's  heart.  He  looked  at  the 
pale,  earnest  face,  so  plebeian  in  features  and  outline, 


376  THE   LILL1NGSTONES. 

and  yet  so  pure  and  noble  in  expression,  and  he  felt 
that  he  could  trust  James  Gryde,  and  that,  for  the 
present  at  least,  he  would  leave  the  matter  in  his 
hands. 

He  signified  as  much,  and  the  young  man  gravely 
thanked  him ;  and  then  Alfred,  feeling  that  nothing 
was  to  be  gained  by  prolonging  an  interview  which 
on  one  side  was  certainly  painful  and  embarrassing, 
rose  to  depart. 

In  a  few  minutes  he  found  himself  once  more  on 
the  solitary  shore,  with  the  great  waves  breaking  at 
his  feet,  and  the  precipitous  black  cliffs  rising  high 
overhead.  The  wind  whistled  shrilly  in  the  crevices 
of  the  rocks,  and  the  blast,  keen  and  briny,  blew 
piercingly  from  the  sea ;  but  Alfred  buttoned  up  his 
great-coat,  and  with  something  very  much  like  posi- 
tive enjoyment,  faced  the  rough,  cutting  breezes  as 
they  tossed  up  the  floating  sea- weed,  and  flung  the  salt 
spray  in  his  face.  He  felt  full  of  hope  and  of  vigour, 
for  at  last  it  seemed  that  the  tangled  web  would  be 
cut  asunder,  if  not  unravelled.  Lillingstone  would 
be  his  own  !  And  since  the  preceding  day,  when  he 
had  looked  on  the  deserted  house,  it  had  acquired 
tenfold  value  in  his  eyes ;  he  loved  every  stone,  every 
tree,  every  acre  of  that  ancient  domain — his  own 
birthright,  and  the  inheritance  of  his  fathers  !  And 
he  felt,  too,  that  his  Heavenly  Father  had  brought 
things  to  this  hopeful  issue — this  unlooked-for  termi- 
nation of  difficulties ;  and  to  Him  he  could  trust  the 


COVE   HALL.  377 

final  settlement,  and  the  event,  whatever  it  might 
be ;  for  during  the  busy  years  that  had  passed  away 
since  he  quitted  his  Oldminster  home,  he  had  learned 
the  blissful  lesson  to  "rest  in  the  Lord,  and  wait 
patiently  for  Him."  Yes,  those  years  of  toil  in  the 
dingy  Liverpool  counting-house  had  been  greatly 
blessed  to  Alfred  LiUingstone.  Tbere  he  had  learned 
the  true  secret  of  happiness ;  there  he  had  found  the 
one  source  of  true  and  undying  bliss ;  there  he  had 
first  begun  fully  and  entirely  to  commit  his  way 
unto  the  Lord,  in  the  firm  and  calm  persuasion  that 
in  the  fulness  of  time,  and  in  the  best  manner  pos- 
sible, He  would  "  bring  it  to  pass."  And  as  he 
firmly  trod  the  sand  and  the  shingle,  and  watched 
the  rising  of  the  rolling  tide,  he  exclaimed,  not  quite 
perhaps  in  the  spirit  of  the  poet — 

"Break,  break,  break! 

On  thy  cold  grey  stones,  oh  sea ! 
And  I  would  that  my  tongue  could  utter 
The  thoughts  that  anse  in  ine ! " 

But  the  familiar  words  brought  a  shadow  over  his 
brow,  for  they  reminded  him  of  Helen,  who  loved 
them  so  well,  and  dwelt  upon  them  so  fondly  and  so 
frequently.  And  as  he  saw  the  tall  ships  and  the 
bustling  steamers  wending  their  way  into  the  adjacent 
port  of  Sandmouth.  he  could  not  but  add — 

•'*  And  the  stately  ships  go  on, 

To  their  haven  under  the  hill ; 
But  oh  for  the  touch  of  a  vamsh'd  hand, 
And  the  sound  of  a  voice  that  is  still !  * 


3/8  THE   L1LLINGSTONES. 

And  yet  Helen  was  where  "  there  is  no  more 
sea ;  "  and  he  doubted  not  that  now  every  hope  was 
fulfilled,  every  tear  wiped  away,  every  yearning  of 
that  weary,  wounded  heart  fully  and  perfectly  satis- 
fied. And  he  said  to  himself,  "  Best  as  it  is,  best  as 
it  is ;  she  was  not  fashioned  to  bear  the  buffeting 
and  the  beating  of  this  world's  pitiless  storms. 
Some  plants  are  so  tender  that  the  frost  and  the 
sunshine  are  alike  perilous,  and  the  Great  Husband- 
man houses  them  securely  ere  the  blast  or  the 
scorching  heat  smites  them  through  and  through. 
Yes,  it  is  best  so ;  all  is  well ! "  And  from  the 
consideration  of  Helen's  favourite  lines  he  passed  on 
to  others  which  he  liked  well  himself,  and  which  at 
that  moment  seemed  strikingly  appropriate : — 

"  Firm  as  the  rocks  Thy  promise  stands, 
Thy  mercies,  countless  as  the  sands ; 
Thy  love,  a  sea  immensely  wide, 
Thy  grace,  an  overflowing  tide !  " 

But  at  last  it  seemed  that  his  feelings  could  not 
find  fitting  language,  save  in  the  words  of  the 
Psalmist :  "  Bless  the  Lord,  0  my  soul ;  and  all  that 
is  within  me  bless  His  holy  name :  Bless  the  Lord, 
0  my  soul,  and  forget  not  all  his  benefits." 

Then  it  occurred  to  him  that  he  must  quicken 
his  footsteps,  for  it  was  already  near  the  hour  when 
he  had  promised  to  lunch  with  Mr.  Belfield,  so  he 
hurried  on,  till  he  came  to  the  narrow  quay  appor- 


COVE   HALL.  379 

tioned  to  the  fishing-boats,  and  there  he  found  a 
short  cut  into  the  town. 

It  was  on  the  following  afternoon,  as  he  sat  over 
the  fire  planning  a  letter  to  Katty,  that  Mrs.  Merriton 
tapped  at  his  door,  and  inquired  if  he  could  receive 
the  visit  of  a  gentleman,  a  clergyman  from  Sand- 
mouth. 

"  Certainly,"  replied  Mr.  Lillingstone.  "  Where 
is  the  clergyman,  Mrs.  Merriton  ?  " 

"  In  the  bar-parlour,  sir.  Shall  I  ask  him  to 
walk  up,  or  would  you  prefer  stepping  down  ? 
You'll  not  be  disturbed." 

"  No ;  ask  him  to  come  here,  if  you  please." 

In  another  minute  Mrs.  Merriton  returned,  ushering 
upstairs  an  elderly,  benevolent-looking  gentleman  in 
clerical  attire,  whom  she  announced  as  the  Rev. 
Mr.  Elford. 

"I  come  to  you,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Elford,  as  soon  as 
he  was  seated,  "  on  the  part  of  Mr.  James  Gryde,  of 
Cove  Hall,  Sandmouth.  Mr.  Gryde,  senior,  died  last 
night ;  and  Mr.  James,  who  was  once  my  pupil,  and 
whom  I  now  am  honoured  in  calling  my  friend, 
wished  you  to  be  apprised  of  the  fact,  and  also  of 
his  determination  to  place  the  Lillingstone  affairs 
entirely  and  without  reserve  in  your  own  hands,  that 
you  might  make,  without  further  delay,  such  arrange- 
ments as  should  seem  most  wise  and  most  just." 

"I  do  not  quite  understand,"  returned  Alfred; 
"  and  I  conclude,  what  I  have  already  inferred  from 


380  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

Mr.  James  Gryde' s  own  words,  that  my  father  was 
not  fairly  dealt  with;  that  I,  as  his  heir,  am 
wronged,  and  that  Mr.  Gryde,  junior,  knows  it  and 
admits  it?" 

Mr.  Elford  bowed  affirmatively,  and  seemed  both 
sad  and  thoughtful.  At  last  he  said :  "I  think,  sir, 
I  had  better  confide  to  you  all  that  has  taken  place. 
Your  father  was  the  victim  of  Mr.  Gryde,  though, 
forgive  me  if  I  say,  his  own  imprudent  want  of 
caution,  and  his  supineness,  rendered  imposition  a 
comparatively  easy  task.  Not  one,  but  a  series 
of  frauds  were  perpetrated;  for  the  Lillingstone 
estates,  though  very  seriously  encumbered,  were 
never  in  the  ruined  condition  in  which  Mr.  Gryde 
represented  them  to  be.  It  is  a  long  and  pitiable 
tale,  and  one  which  I  scarcely  feel  inclined  to  unfold 
on  the  present^  occasion :  suffice  it  to  say,  that  there 
never  was  any  necessity  for  the  widow  and  family 
of  the  late  Mr.  Lillingstone  to  leave  their  rightful 
home.  It  is  quite  true  that,  apart  from  poor 
Gryde's  evil  machinations,  the  estates,  and  you  as 
the  heir,  were  most  seriously  involved,  and  strict 
economy,  and  even  painful  retrenchment,  would 
have  been  requisite  ;  still  you  might  have  lived  on, 
had  you  chosen  it,  at  Lillingstone.  Mr.  James 
Gryde,  who  is  passionately  fond  of  legal  studies, 
made  the  discovery  of  your  wrongs  not  many  months 
ago  :  his  father  was  ill  of  a  fever,  and  in  his  delirium 
revealed  much  that  no  one  hitherto  had  suspected ; 


COVE   HALL.  381 

so  Mr.  James,  in  the  hope  of  setting  his  own 
anxieties  at  rest,  began  to  examine  such  of  the 
Lillingstone  documents  as  he  could  lay  hands  on. 
I  need  not  tell  you  the  result  of  his  conscientious 
research.  When  you  were  at  Cove  Hall  yesterday 
morning,  Mr.  Gryde  was  very  near  his  end,  and  his 
mind  was  greatly  burdened  by  a  sense  of  the  wrongs 
he  had  committed.  His  son  sent  for  me,  and  I 
urged  the  dying  man  to  make  full  confession,  and 
all  the  restitution  in  his  power.  He  was  in  fearful 
extremity ;  I  know  not  which  was  heavier,  anguish 
of  body  or  of  mind  ;  but  he  yielded  at  length  to  my 
entreaties,  and  to  the  earnest  prayers  of  his  son,  and 
divulged  the  whole  scheme  whereby  he  had  reduced 
your  family  to  extremity,  and  aggrandised  his  own. 
You  have  reason  to  be  thankful,  sir,  that  this  ample 
confession  was  made,  for  so  complicated  were  the 
divers  frauds,  so  plenary  the  powers  with  which  the 
late  Mr.  Lillingstone  invested  him,  that  I  am  con- 
vinced nothing  but  a  most  tedious  and  ruinous  law- 
suit could  have  reinstated  you  in  your  rights.  As  it 
is,  I  hold  Mr.  Gryde' s  confession,  signed  and  sealed  by 
his  own  hand ;  as  it  is,  your  difficulties  are  at  an  end, 
— you  have  nothing  to  do  but  to  take  possession  ;  and 
Mr.  James  Gryde  assures  me  that  when  restitution 
is  made,  and  the  savings  of  your  minority,  and  of 
the  two  years  which  have  elapsed  since  your  be- 
coming of  age,  applied  to  their  just  purpose,  there 
is  nothing  to  prevent  your  immediate  return  to 


382  THE    LILLINGSTONES. 

Lillingstone,  though  for  a  few  years,  perhaps,  some 
degree  of  economy  may  be  desirable,  if  not  im- 
perative." 

And  then  Alfred  and  the  good  clergyman  held 
further  conversation  on  many  points  which  it  was 
desirable  to  clear  up.  Of  the  last  moments  of  the 
unhappy  Gryde  there  was  little  to  be  said,  and 
Mr.  Elford  evidently  shrank  from  allusion  to  the 
painful,  and  Alfred  feared  the  hopeless,  scene  of  the 
preceding  evening. 

It  was  finally  arranged  that  after  the  funeral, 
Mr.  Elford,  Alfred,  Mr.  James  Gryde,  and  a  lawyer 
of  unquestionable  character  and  standing,  should 
meet  in  the  private  office  of  Mr.  Belfield,  that 
gentleman  also  being  present;  and  that  there  and 
then  matters  should  be  finally  arranged,  the  fraudu- 
lent papers  destroyed,  and  the  proper  documents 
consigned  to  Alfred  himself,  as  the  rightful  possessor 
of  Lillingstone  and  its  estates. 

That  evening  Alfred  could  not  forbear  telling 
Mrs.  Merriton  that  he  hoped  very  soon  to  be  at 
Lillingstone  again,  a  piece  of  information  which 
quite  unsettled  the  good  lady,  and  made  her  bring 
up  out  of  the  cellar  a  cobwebby  bottle  of  her  very 
oldest  and  rarest  port,  for  Mr.  Lillingstone' s  special 
delectation. 

The  next  day  Alfred  procured  the  key  of  the  Hall 
from  the  lodge,  and  disclosed  himself  to  the  old 
porter  and  his  wife,  who  both  resorted  to  tears  as 


COVE   HALL.  383 

the  most  expressive  way  of  testifying  their  unfeigned 
joy.  He  dispensed,  however,  with  their  preferred 
services  in  the  opening  of  doors  and  shutters,  for  he 
desired  to  be  alone ;  and  thus,  in  the  bright,  wintry 
noon,  he  crossed  the  threshold  of  his  home,  and 
stood  once  more  in  his  father's  house ! 

He  went  to  the  library,  and  there  stood  the  sofa 
on  which  Mr.  Lillingstone  had  breathed  his  last; 
there  was  the  very  spot  where  they  had  all  gathered 
together  in  their  awe  and  in  their  grief  on  that 
memorable  evening;  and,  kneeling  down  in  the 
place  where  God  had  called  that  immortal  spirit  to 
Himself,  Alfred  Lillingstone  poured  forth  his  heart 
in  prayer  and  thanksgiving — prayer  that  he  might 
be  guided  and  blessed  in  prosperity  as  in  adversity ; 
that  he  might  be  the  Christian  master  of  a  Christian 
household,  and  that  another  and  far  more  glorious 
inheritance  might  be  his,  through  the  mercy  of  his 
Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ ; — and  thanksgiving 
for  all  the  past,  for  the  pain  and  for  the  discipline, 
for  the  healthful  toil,  and  for  the  hopeful  spirit,  and 
for  the  mercy  which  had  made  the  crooked  straight 
and  the  rough  places  plain,  and  given  to  him,  ere  he 
had  supposed  it  was  nigh  at  hand,  "  the  desire  of  his 
heart  !  " 


384  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 


CHAPTER  X. 

SEPARATION. 

THE  sun  was  shining  into  the  pleasant  breakfast- 
room  at  Redlands,  where  Bertha  and  her  husband 
and  Katty  were  sitting.  It  was  a  brilliant  May 
morning,  and  through  the  open  windows  came  the 
scent  of  hawthorn  and  lilac,  and  the  sweet  singing 
of  many  birds.  The  meal  was  concluded,  and  Gran- 
ville  Golding  sat  at  one  end  of  the  table,  busy  with 
his  fishing-tackle  and  his  two  little  girls,  who  were 
delighted  with  the  gaudy  flies  he  was  arranging  in 
his  pocket-book. 

Katty  and  Bertha  had  taken  different  sheets  of 
the  Times,  and  were  skimming  over  the  politics  and 
the  gossip  of  the  day ;  but  the  lady  of  the  house 
seemed  discontented  and  ill  at  ease,  and  more  dis- 
posed to  wrangle  with  her  husband  and  sister  than 
to  peruse  the  leading  article,  or  even  the  "  Births, 
Deaths,  and  Marriages,"  or  the  "Court  Circular." 
She  was  still  the  very  Bertha  of  olden  days,  her 
beautiful  bright  hair  as  glossy,  and  as  artistically 


SEPARATION.  385 

arranged,  her  dress  as  perfect  and  as  well  chosen, 
her  voice  as  sweet,  and  her  words  as  sharp  and  de- 
cided. But  the  shadow  that  had  rested  on  her  fair 
face  during  her  visit  to  Oldminster  in  the  preceding 
autumn  was  certainly  deepened ;  the  look  of  care 
was  stamped  ineffaceably  on  the  delicate  features, 
and  their  expression,  when  in  repose,  was  altogether 
sad  and  fretful. 

"  And  when  are  you  coming  home  again?"  she 
asked,  laying  down  the  newspaper,  and  turning  to 
her  husband.  The  words  were  simple  and  inoffen- 
sive enough  in  themselves,  but  the  tone  was,  to  say 
the  least  of  it,  exasperating. 

"I  don't  know,"  was  the  cold,  curt  answer. 

Bertha  Golding  had  nearly  worn  out  her  hus- 
band's great  patience  and  his  kindly  forbearance. 

"  I  shall  write  to  Mrs.  Randal  to  have  the  house 
ready  for  us  by  the' twenty-fifth." 

"  You  will  do  nothing  of  the  kind,  Bertha!  I 
have  told  you  already  in  the  plainest  language  I 
could  choose,  that  I  do  not  intend  to  go  up  to  town 
at  all  this  season.  Let  us  enjoy  the  country  in 

summer-time  for  once  in  our  lives  ! No,  darling, 

you  must  not  touch  that ;  see  what  cruel  little 
hooks  there  are  to  catch  little  fingers,  as  well  as 

little  fishes. Really,  my  dear,  you  would  be  ten 

times  happier  in  the  country  yourself,  if  you  could 

only  make  up  your  mind  to  it.     London  hours  don't 

suit  you;  they  make  you  look   faded  and  worn — 

c  c 


386  THE   LILL1NGSTONES. 

why  really,  at  this  moment,  you  look  considerably 
older  than  Katty!" 

"I  never  expect  compliments  from  my  husband," 
said  Bertha,  with  a  bitter  smile.  "But,  Granville, 
I  may  as  well  tell  you  that  I  will  not  stop  here.  I 
hate  country  life,  and  if  you  choose  to  bury  yourself 
alive,  it  is  no  reason  why  I  should  do  so  too.  Stay 
here,  if  you  like,  and  kill  all  the  trout,  and  spoil  the 
children,  and  gather  your  own  roses  and  straw- 
berries ;  I  have  no  such  rural  tastes ;  so  I  will  write 
my  letter  to  the  housekeeper,  and  desire  her  to  be 
ready  for  me  at  the  time  appointed." 

4 '  You  are  mad,  Bertha !  mad  with  your  own  self- 
will  and  temper !  What  would  the  world  say  of  so 
young  a  woman  as  you  are,  going  out,  and  receiving 
without  her  husband?  There  would  be  injurious 
whispers  immediately." 

'  *  I  cannot  help  that ;  I  care  very  little  about 
what  the  world  says." 

"Indeed!  that  is  news.  I  thought  the  world — 
that  is,  the  fashionable  world — was  everything  to 
you.  I  am  sure,  in  every  dispute  we  have  had  since 
our  marriage,  you  have  threatened  me  with  the 
world's  displeasure,  or  contempt,  if  I  did  or  left 
undone  anything  opposed  to  Belgravian  legislation." 

Bertha  made  no  reply,  but  her  face  was  displeased 
and  resolute. 

"Go  upstairs,  children!"  were  her  next  words. 
"  I  cannot  think  why  you  come  here  at  our  break- 


SEPARATION.  387 

fast  time.     I   shall   speak  to  nurse  about   it;  she 
ought  to  keep  you  within  hounds." 

"  Papa  said  we  were  to  come,"  replied  Lily,  half 
timidly,  half  pertinaciously,  and  with  an  appealing 
glance  at  her  father. 

"To  be  sure  I  did;  and  you  shall  come,  too, 
every  morning,  if  you  are  good  girls,  and  do  not 
tease  mamma  and  Aunt  Katty." 

But,  unluckily,  at  that  moment  the  fat  little  Eose 
upset  a  bundle  of  rod-joints,  and  in  their  clumsy 
descent  they  swept  away  mamma's  work-basket. 
"Oh,  dear  me,  dear  me!"  began  papa  apologeti- 
cally, leaving  his  May-flies  and  his  cock-a-bundies 
to  their  fate,  while  he  helped  the  little  girls  to 
pick  up  silk- winders  and  reels  of  cotton  and  all  the 
other  paraphernalia  of  the  unfortunate  basket.  But 
Bertha  rose,  and  rang  the  bell  twice,  with  that  sharp, 
quick  ring  that  the  servants  always  knew  to  be  an 
indication  of  "  the  missus's  "  perturbed  state  of  mind. 

The  nurse  appeared,  and  Bertha  gave  the  order, 
*  *  Take  Miss  Golding  and  Miss  Rose  to  the  nursery 
immediately,  and  in  future  take  charge  of  them 
yourself  at  our  breakfast- time !  " 

"  Stop  a  minute,  my  pets,"  said  Gran ville,  turning 
to  the  little  girls,  who  stood  like  culprits  at  his  side, 
ready  and  yet  afraid  to  begin  to  cry.  "  Give  papa  a 
kiss,  and  mind  you  come  to  meet  me  along  the 
Bcckington  road ;  I  shall  walk  home  from  Rush- 
mere,  and  you  shall  have  some  nice  little  fish  for 
c  c  2 


388  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

your  supper.  Good-bye!  now  run  away,  and  be 
the  best  little  girls  in  the  world.  Another  kiss! 
There's  my  bonnie  Lily  and  Rose." 

The  children  went  away  with  their  nurse,  and 
Katty,  who  was  unaccustomed  to  matrimonial  dif- 
ferences, and  found  herself  quite  de  trop  on  the 
present  occasion,  ran  after  them  to  tell  nurse  she 
would  take  them  for  a  walk  to  gather  blue-bells; 
so  Bertha  and  Granville  were  left  alone. 

"Let  the  children  come  to  meet  me,"  he  said,  as 
he  made  his  final  arrangements  with  gut  and  trace 
and  hook.  "I  shall  return  to-morrow  afternoon 
about  six  o'clock." 

"  I  thought  you  were  going  for  several  days," 

"  Well,  I  did  mean  to  stay  longer.  Fosbrooke 
asked  me  for  the  week;  but  there  will  be  a  set 
there  I  do  not  care  about;  and  indeed,  Bertha,  if 
you  had  been  more  amiable  for  the  last  few  days,  I 
should  have  refused  the  invitation  altogether ;  but  I 
am  sick  of  this  incessant  argument  and  dispute  and 
fault-finding,  and  I  am  glad  to  get  away  and  breathe 
a  calmer  atmosphere.  Indeed — I  must  tell  you  the 
truth — I  have  borne  your  temper  till  I  can  bear  it 
no  more :  there  must  be  a  change !  " 

"  There  shall  be  a  change !  "  replied  Bertha,  her 
blue  eyes  flashing  fire,  and  her  face  and  neck  red- 
dening with  rising  passion ;  "  you  take  your  way, 
and  I  will  take  mine ;  henceforth  let  us  be  two 
persons  I  " 


SEPARATION.  389 

"You  do  not  know  what  you  are  saying,"  said 
her  husband,  sadly;  "there  is  no  reason  why  we 
should  separate ;  indeed,  Twill  not  separate  from  you 
on  the  mere  ground  of  incompatibility  of  temper.  I 
only  ask  you  to  be  gentler  and  more  forbearing, 
and " 

"And  I  tell  you,"  she  replied  angrily,  "that 
your  gentleness  means  tameness,  and  your  forbear- 
ance cowardice !  I  have  long  seen  that  we  cannot 
be  happy  together  ;  therefore,  from  this  day — from 
this  hour— we  will  separate  !  I  desire  it — I  will 
have  it  so  I  " 

"Bertha,"  said  Granville,  with  unutterable  sad- 
ness in  his  tone  and  look,  "  I  am  sometimes  tempted 
to  believe  that  you  never  loved  me." 

"I never  did/" 

He  turned  very  pale,  and  covered  his  face  with 
his  hands.  Presently  he  spoke.  "  I  see  it ;  I  see 
it  all  now,  Eertha  !  You  married  me  because  I  was 
rich,  because  I  could  give  you  much  of  the  wealth 
and  grandeur  of  this  world.  Eut,  Eertha,  I  loved 
you  dearly,  dearly !  never  was  wife  more  to  her 
husband  than  you  have  been  to  me,  and  now  you 
tell  me — what  I  cannot  bear  to  believe.  Tell  me 
you  said  it  in  anger !  " 

Eertha  was  moved,  but  she  did  not  show  it. 
There  was  no  answer.  She  did  love  her  husband  as 
much  as  it  was  in  her  nature  to  love  any  one ;  but 
at  that  moment  she  tried  hard  to  convince  herself 


^90  THE   LILL1NGSTONES. 

that  lie  was  nothing  to  her,  save  as  the  source  of  all 
the  luxuries  and  all  the  splendour  that  surrounded 
her.  In  her  heart  she  abhorred  the  idea  of  separa- 
tion ;  she  imagined,  and  rightly  too,  that  a  woman 
who  loses  the  protection  of  a  husband,  who  is  not 
himself  unworthy,  loses  caste  also.  She  had  no 
idea  of  being  pointed  at  as  "the  pretty  Mrs.  Gran- 
ville Golding,  whose  marriage  had  turned  out  so 
unhappily.'7  Eut  in  her  passion  she  cared  not  what 
she  said,  if  only  her  husband  were  grieved  and 
wounded.  She  was  almost  sorry  that  she  had 
uttered  that  cold,  decided  "  I  never  did!  "  "  But,'7 
she  argued  to  herself,  "  it  will  never  do  to  unsay  it 
now  while  he  remains  obstinate  about  going  to 
town.  Some  other  time  I  will  retract,  when  I  can 
do  so  gracefully,  and  without  losing  ground." 

So  she  hardened  her  heart,  and  Granville  sat 
looking  at  her  with  a  face  of  misery  that  would 
have  touched  a  stone.  It  did  touch  Eertha,  but 
pride  was  stronger  than  aught  else  in  her  heart,  and 
she  bent  her  head  over  her  work,  and  sewed  on 
calmly,  with  a  face  as  cold  and  as  immovable  as  the 
marble  face  of  Pallas  that  looked  down  upon  her 
from  the  top  of  the  bookcase. 

Granville  rose  and  went  away,  but  in  a  few 
minutes  he  returned  ready  for  his  journey.  Eertha 
was  where  he  had  left  her,  looking  if  possible 
more  icy  and  obstinate  than  before.  He  gathered 
together  his  fishing-tackle,  swept  away  the  litter  of 


SEPARATION.  391 

traces  and  hooks  and  silk  into  his  private  drawer, 
and  summoned  his  servant  to  carry  his  rod  down  to 
the  lodge.  Still  he  lingered,  and  at  last  he  came  up 
to  where  Bertha  was  sitting,  and  said,  "Come,  my 
dear,  don't  let  us  quarrel ;  let  us  part  good  friends  ; 
perhaps  I  have  been  over  hasty,  and — and  I  am  sure 
you  did  not  mean  what  you  said." 

What  evil  impulse  prompted  Bertha  to  say  what 
her  heart  repudiated  ? — "  I  am  not  in  the  habit  of 
making  rash  or  meaningless  assertions. " 

He  looked  at  her,  and  their  eyes  met.  She  never 
forgot  that  look — that  look  of  mingled  sorrow  and 
anger  and  wonder  and  reproof  —  that  look  that 
pierced  her  through  and  through!  Then  he  bent 
down  and  kissed  her,  quietly  bidding  her  good-bye. 
She  suffered  his  embrace  without  the  irritable  shrink- 
ing that  sometimes  gave  him  pain  ;  but  his  kiss  was 
unreturned,  and  her  fingers  ceased  not  their  busy 
movement.  Another  moment,  and  she  was  alone. 

She  sprang  to  the  window  as  soon  as  she  heard 
his  footstep  without,  and,  under  cover  of  the  blind, 
watched  him  across  the  lawn  and  clown  the  avenue. 
By-and-by  he  overtook  the  children  and  their  aunt, 
and  she  saw  him  take  up  Lily  and  Hose  in  his  arms 
and  almost  smother  them  with  kisses;  then  he 
pressed  Katty's  hand,  and  gave  her  a  warm,  brotherly 
kiss,  and  darted  away  through  the  trees  to  take  the 
short  cut  to  the  lodge.  All  that  day  Bertha  felt 
intensely  miserable,  and,  a  necessary  consequence 


392  THE   L1LLINGSTONES. 

with  her,  intensely  cross.  Katty  felt  quite  wearied 
when  night  came,  and  she  determined  that  she 
would  curtail  her  visit,  and  return  home  as  quickly 
as  possible— that  is,  home  to  Oldminster,  for  Lilling- 
stone  had  required  so  much  repair,  and  so  many  legal 
formalities  had  to  be  gone  through,  that  it  would  be 
July,  if  not  August,  before  the  family  could  return 
to  their  beloved  home. 

The  next  day  was  grey  and  sultry — warm  enough 
for  thunder,  everybody  said ;  and  Bertha,  who  had 
not  referred  to  her  husband  before,  opined  that  with 
electricity  in  the  air  the  fish  would  not  bite.  Still, 
and  to  Katty's  great  surprise,  she  hurried  over  her 
own  early  dinner,  in  order  to  walk  with  the  children 
and  the  nurse  towards  Rushmere  station. 

Bertha  had  wonderful  control  over  herself,  and 
Katty  never  suspected  how  uncomfortable  and  how 
repentant  she  had  been  for  the  last  twenty-four 
hours.  She  began  to  think  that  she  had  ventured 
too  far;  and  a  nervous  dread  haunted  her  lest 
Granville  should  take  her  at  her  word  and  insist 
upon  separation.  She  had  another  fear  also,  but 
that  was  too  terrible,  too  sickening  to  be  entertained 
for  a  moment.  "You  will  come  too,  Katty,"  she 
said,  as  she  went  upstairs  for  her  hat  and  scarf. 

Katty  agreed,  and  they  all  set  out,  and  soon  found 
themselves  on  the  Beckington  road.  They  walked 
for  an  hour,  and  then  the  children  began  to  be 
weary,  so  they  rested  oil  a  fallen  tree,  while  Bertha 


SEPARATION. 

and  Katty  ascended  a  little  eminence  near  at  hand, 
where  they  could  see  the  windings  of  the  road  for  a 
long  way.  One  or  two  figures  darkened  the  white, 
dusty  line ;  but  as  they  came  nearer  they  were  dis- 
covered to  he  farmers  returning  from  Beckington 
market,  and,  rather  reluctantly,  Bertha  issued  orders 
for  the  return  of  the  little  ones ;  they  were  getting 
tired  and  cross,  and  it  would  he  long  past  their  bed- 
time when  they  reached  home. 

"  If  you  are  not  too  much  fatigued,  Katty,  I 
should  like  to  go  on  a  little  farther,"  said  Bertha ; 
and  Katty  declaring  that  she  could  walk  at  least 
two  miles  more,  the  sisters  proceeded  on  their  way. 
They  went  on  till  they  came  to  the  Hushmere  lane, 
and  there  they  encountered  one  of  Mr.  Golding's 
own  tenants,  and  inquired  of  him  if  the  train  had 
arrived. 

"Surely,  ladies,"  returned  the  farmer;  "  the 
train  stopped  at  Rushmere  station  three  quarters  of 
an  hour  ago.  It  is  almost  at  Shrewsbury  by  this 
time." 

"  Have  you  seen  anything  of  Mr.  Golding  ?  " 
asked  Bertha. 

"  No,  ma'am.  I  was  at  the  station  when  the 
train  came  in,  and  he  was  not  among  the  passengers 
who  alighted ;  if  he's  coming  by  rail  he  won't  be 
here  to-night." 

"  So  I  suppose  we  had  better  turn  back,"  said 
Katty,  looking  at  Bertha,  who  was  still  leaning  on 


394  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

the  utile  where  they  had  talked  with  the  fanner. 
Bertha  assented  and  rose  at  once ;  but  she  was  very 
pale,  and  she  looked  anxious,  if  not  miserable. 

"Bertha  dear,  I  think  you  need  not  be  unhappy 
at  Granville's  want  of  punctuality,"  was  Katty's 
remark,  as  they  found  themselves  once  more  on  the 
Beckington  road  with  their  faces  turned  towards 
Eedlands. 

"  Oh  no,  no  ;  of  course  not! "  returned  Bertha. 
"I  dare  say  Colonel  Fosbrooke  has  persuaded  him  ; 
perhaps  they  have  had  bad  sport  to-day,  and  wish 
to  try  again  to-morrow." 

But  in  spite  of  her  assurances,  repeated  with  a 
frequency  that  was  in  itself  suspicious,  that  she  was 
not  in  the  least  anxious,  she  was  evidently  depressed, 
and  from  time  to  time  she  looked  back  to  see  if  she 
could  discern  any  signs  of  her  husband's  approach. 

The  last  mile  was  accomplished  in  silence,  and 
just  as  they  reached  the  woods  that  skirted  the 
estate  of  Bedlands,  Bertha  burst  out,  "  It  is  of  no 
use  ;  I  am  anxious ;  I  never  felt  so  frightened  about 
anything  in  my  life.  I  feel  positive  something  has 
happened  to  Granville."  Katty  listened  in  astonish- 
ment ;  she  was  really  frightened  to  hear  Bertha 
confess  her  fears,  it  was  so  unlike  her ;  it  seemed 
almost  ominous.  But  she  tried  to  soothe  away  her 
anxiety,  although  she  was  fast  becoming  infected 
with  her  sister's  nervousness.  She  had  no  idea  of 
the  circumstances  under  which  the  husband  and 


SEPARATION.  395 

wife  had  parted ;  she  could  not  possibly  share  the 
gloomy  presentiments  of  Bertha's  soul. 

They  were  at  home  again,  and  sitting  by  the 
open  windows  in  the  drawing-room,  in  the  dusky 
grey  twilight  that  was  fading  away  rapidly  into  the 
darkness  of  a  moonless  night,  when  they  saw  a 
horseman  riding  slowly  up  the  avenue,  and  taking 
the  side-path  that  wound  round  to  the  back  entrance. 

"Who  can  it  be?"  thought  Katty :  but  Bertha 
sprang  up ;  she  knew  the  voice  that  spoke  to  one  of 
the  servants  who  was  taking  Lily's  pony  to  the 
stable ;  and  in  the  same  moment  she  recognised  the 
stately  figure,  the  military  port,  and  even  the  very 
horse  of  Colonel  Posbrooke.  She  was  by  his  side 
in  an  instant,  with  her  hand  on  his  rein,  and  hoarse 
words  of  inquiry  on  her  lips.  Katty  followed  her 
slowly,  with  a  sickening  dread  at  her  heart. 

The  colonel  seemed  confounded  at  the  sight  of 
the  little  white- clad  figure  at  his  side ;  but  he  dis- 
mounted>  and  gave  his  horse  to  the  servant  to  be  led 
away.  He  was  turning  towards  the  house,  when 
Bertha  again  besought  him  to  tell  her  "where 
Granville  was?" 

He  was  silent  for  half  a  minute,  and  in  that 
half-minute  Bertha  lived  over  again  her  agony  on 
Hasleslack  Moor,  while  the  Specleton  bells  were 
ringing,  and  that  hour  of  world-weariness  and  re- 
morse by  Helen's  dying  bed.  Granville  Golding 
was  where  unkhfdness  and  indifference  could  never 


396  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

grieve  him  more;  his  kind,  loving  heart  was  at 
rest! 

He  had  been  fishing  with  the  colonel,  and  one 
or  two  other  ardent  piscators,  and  it  so  happened 
that  Granville,  seeing  a  likely  place  to  throw  a 
fly,  parted  from  his  companions,  and  with  only  his 
servant,  went  scrambling  over  the  large  stones,  and 
leaping  from  rock  to  rock,  in  a  style  that  somewhat 
intimidated  the  man,  who  was  not  so  eager  in  the 
sport  as  his  master. 

Nearly  an  honr  afterwards  there  was  loud  calling, 
and  cries  for  help  resounded  on  the  river's  banks. 
The  colonel  and  his  friends  hastened  and  ran  in  the 
direction  from  whence  the  voice  proceeded,  and 
almost  immediately  they  met  Granville' s  servant, 
who  told  them  that  his  master  was  in  th«  water ; 
he  had  missed  his  footing  in  springing  from  a  slip- 
pery stone,  and  the  river  was  deep  and  the  current 
strong,  and  he  was  unable  to  swim.  The  colonel 
and  another  gentleman  had  leaped  into  the  stream 
before  the  words  were  well  spoken,  but  a  more  un- 
fortunate spot  for  an  accident  could  not  have  been 
imagined.  The  bed  of  the  river  was  alternately 
deep  and  shallow ;  the  current  in  the  middle  of  the 
stream  was  strong,  owing  to  a  waterfall  a  little 
higher  up,  but  there  were  dark,  still  pools  among 
the  rocks,  in  whose  cold  depths  drowning  would  be 
a  speedy  process. 

It  was  long  before  Granville  Golding  was  found ; 


SEPARATION.  397 

and  when  at  last  he  was  taken  from  the  water,  life 
was  quite  extinct.  They  carried  him  to  the  nearest 
inn,  where  every  measure  was  tried  to  restore  sus- 
pended animation,  but  all  in  vain;  the  spirit  had 
returned  to  the  God  who  gave  it,  and  it  only  re- 
mained to  convey  the  mournful  tidings  to  the 
bereaved  wife  at  Redlands. 

Late  in  the  night  they  brought  him  home,  and 
the  dawn  found  Bertha  hanging  over  the  lifeless 
form,  clasping  the  stiff  hands,  and  wildly  kissing 
the  pale,  cold  lips  that  had  pressed  hers  so  lovingly 
a  few  hours  before — that  would  never,  never  again 
speak  of  love  or  of  regret — never,  never  again  give 
the  disregarded  kiss  to  his  miserable,  heart- stricken 
wife! 

Poor,  poor  Bertha !  In  that  dark  hour  her  heart 
could  receive  no  word  of  consolation;  only  one 
text  burnt  itself  in  upon  her  tortured  memory  with 
terrible  significance  —  ' '  They  would  none  of  my 
counsels,  they  despised  all  my  reproof.  Therefore 
shall  they  eat  of  the  fruit  of  their  own  way,  and  bs 
.filled  with  their  own  devices." 


398  THE   LILL1NGSTONES. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

THE    GAKDEK   WALKS. 

GOLDING'S  remains  were  brought  to  Old- 
minster  to  be  interred  in  the  family  vault,  and 
thither  came  Bertha,  shrouded  in  her  heavy  crape, 
a  wan,  silent,  heart- stricken  creature,  who  turned 
away  from  every  familiar  spot,  and  would  fain 
have  shut  out  from  her  sight  the  glorious  summer 
sunshine.  "  Every  one  was  very  kind  to  her,"  she 
said;  but  it  was  very  evident  that  she  preferred 
solitude  to  any  companionship.  Her  children  she 
sent  away,  and  to  her  mother  and  sisters  she  would 
not  unbosom  herself  in  the  smallest  degree. 

Poor  Bertha !  hers  was  a  mournful  lot.  She  had 
tried  to  grasp  the  gold  and  the  jewels  of  earth,  and 
lo !  her  hands  were  filled  with  dross !  She  had  set 
up  for  herself  a  Dagon,  and  it  was  fallen  to  the 
ground,  and  was  broken  to  pieces.  She  had  thought 
to  live  at  ease,  knowing  neither  sorrow  nor  care, 
and  she  had  fed  on  ashes,  and  hewed  to  herself 
cisterns  that  would  hold  no  water. 


THE   GARDEN   WALKS.  399 

"With  lier  husband,  Bertha  had  lost  her  wealth 
and  her  high  position.  The  splendid  fortune  to 
which  Granville  Golding  had  been  the  unexpected 
heir  was  entailed  on  the  male  line.  Old  Mr.  Gold- 
ing  had  laughed  when  Bertha's  second  little  girl 
was  born,  and  he  told  his  son  to  have  a  care,  or 
Philip  would  be  his  heir  after  all ;  and  poor  Gran- 
ville had  laughed  back  a  good-tempered  retort  that 
there  was  plenty  of  time  for  half  a  dozen  sons, 
seeing  he  was  only  twenty-six  years  of  age,  and  his 
wife  nearly  five  years  younger. 

But  the  son  and  heir  did  not  make  his  appearance  ; 
and  now  Granville  was  dead,  and  his  brother  suc- 
ceeded to  his  vast  possessions.  Philip  Golding, 
however,  was  not  a  selfish  or  a  sordid  man,  and 
his  first  care  was  to  make  honourable  provision  for 
his  brother's  widow  and  orphans;  and  then  Bertha 
to  the  astonishment  of  every  one,  decided  to  live  at 
Oldminster,  in  the  old  house  which  had  been  the 
home  of  her  family  so  long. 

There  was  one  person,  however,  who  was  not 
quite  so  much  surprised  as  others,  and  that  was  Mrs. 
Golding.  She  was  a  sweet,  gentle,  warm-hearted 
little  woman,  growing  very  grey  and  elderly  now ;  and 
her  heart  yearned  after  the  desolate  young  widow, 
and  the  little  darlings  that  were  her  lost  Gran- 
ville's  own  children,  and  her  pet  grand- children. 
So,  one  day  when  she  found  her  daughter-in-law 
more  inclined  to  converse  than  she  had  been  since 


400  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

the  death  of  her  husband,  and  so  much  meeker  and 
humbler  than  she  had  ever  known  her  before,  she 
seized  the  opportunity  to  talk  a  little  about  certain 
plans  that  had  been  proposed  for  her  future  benefit, 
saying  at  the  last,  "  So  you  see,  my  dear,  you  will 
be  very  comfortable  as  regards  money  matters.  In- 
deed I  know  dear  Philip  will  be  quite  sad  to  think 
he  is  obliged  to  take  that  which  would  never  have 
been  his,  had  one  of  your  little  girls  only  been  a 
boy.  But,  my  dear,  I  hope  you  won't  go  and  live 
in  London  again ;  it  is  not  good  for  the  children,  and 
I  am  getting  old,  and  travelling  is  a  burthen  to  me, 
and  I  should  like  to  see  the  dear  little  things  very 
often — and  you  too,  my  dear — I  should  like  us  all 
to  live  close  together.  But,"  seeing  emotion  on 
Bertha's  pale  face,  "but  still,  if  you  think  you 
would  be  happier  in  London,  my  love,  never  mind 
me.  You  will  come  down  every  year  and  pay  us  a 
visit,  will  you  not  ?  " 

"I  never  wish  to  see  London  again!"  replied 
Bertha,  her  whole  soul  sickening  at  the  remembrance 
of  what  had  passed  between  herself  and  her  husband 
in  the  last  hour  they  had  spent  together  on  that 
miserable  morning.  "Oh  no,  Mrs.  Golding,  I  have 
had  enough  of  the  world  and  its  pleasures  and  its 
ambitions,  and  I  have  had  enough  of  myself!  It 
is  not  fair  to  abuse  the  world,  when  all  the  while  it 
was  my  own  grovelling  aims,  and  my  own  selfish, 
wicked  temper,  that  prevented  me  finding  satisfao- 


THE   GARDEN   WALKS.  401 

tion  in  anything  I  undertook.  I  wish  you  would 
take  my  children  and  make  them  good,  pious  women 
— make  them  like  yourself.  I  am  not  fit  to  train 
them.  I  am  too  proud,  and  too  mean,  and  too 
wicked ! " 

"  You  are  not  wicked,  my  poor  child!  You  are 
not  the  first  person  who  has  heen  disappointed  in 
worldly  splendours  and  worldly  pursuits ;  and  we 
have  all  our  little  tempers,  and  we  are  all  too  much 
inclined  to  be  proud,  you  know.  I  am  sure  I  am. 
I  often  have  to  check  myself,  though  people  think  I 
have  no  pride." 

"  Please  do  not  say  I  am  not  wicked,  it  does  not 
comfort  me ;  I  know  what  I  have  heen  too  well — I 
tell  you  a  more  unworthy  creature  never  walked 
God's  earth  than  I,  Bertha  Golding !  " 

"  Then,  my  dear,  I  will  not  contradict  you  when 
you  speak  of  the  past ;  but  I  am  sure  now  you  desire 
to  be  a  very  different  person.  My  dear  Bertha, 
if,  through  your  pride  and  vanity  and  passionate 
temper,  you  have  sinned  deeply — ever  so  deeply — • 
there  is  pardon  to  be  had  for  the  asking.  God 
willeth  not  the  death  of  a  sinner ;  and  through  His 
dear  Son  the  vilest  and  the  most  guilty  may  find 
forgiveness  and  peace.  But  you  know  all  this,  my 
dear,  better  than  I  can  tell  you,  for  I  am  not 
clever." 

"  Oh,  yes  !  I  know  it — I  do  knoiv  it  ! — and  there 
lies  the  misery,  and  the  shame,  and  the  crime !  I 

D  D 


402  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

knew  it  when  Granville  found  me  just  dying  on  the 
moors ;  I  had  a  solemn  warning  then.  I  knew  it 
when  Helen  entreated  me  to  cease  from  my  vain, 
unprofitable  pursuit  of  mundane  pleasure.  I  knew 
it  when  the  others  knelt,  and  I  dared  not,  to  partake 
of  the  Supper  of  the  Lord ;  and  when  I  saw  her, 
peaceful  and  happy,  going  to  God,  that  was  another 
warning,  and  I  would  not  heed.  I  said  to  myself  in 
reality,  if  not  in  words,  '  I  have  followed  idols, 
and  after  them  will  I  go/  It  needed  the  extremity 
of  sorrow,  something  startling  and  unlooked-for  and 
awful,  to  rouse  me  from  my  sleep  of  sin  and  selfish- 
ness; and  yet  God  might  have  said,  '  She  is  joined 
to  idols,  let  her  alone ! ' ' 

"  Eut  he  did  not  say  it,  my  dear.  He  sent  you 
another,  and  a  yet  more  imperative  warning.  He 
sent  it  in  mercy  and  in  love ;  and  now,  if  you  will 
hear  His  voice,  and  harden  not  your  heart,  He  will 
turn  again  and  he  very  gracious  to  you.  You  are 
quite  young  yet;  as  far  as  we  can  see — though  just 
now  we  are  the  last  people  who  ought  to  count  upon 
the  certainty  of  length  of  days — you  have  many 
years  before  you  ;  it  may  please  God  to  spare  you  to 
see  your  children's  children  to  the  fourth  genera- 
tion ;  and  you  ought  to  rejoice  in  the  belief  that 
time  is  given  you  to  do  God's  will  and  to  walk  in 
His  way,  and  to  improve  the  talents  He  has  given 
you!" 

"  Eut  I  am  so  weary !  "   said  poor  Eertha. 


THE   GARDEN   WALKS.  403 

"  You  will  find  rest  in  the  sense  of  pardon,  my 
dear,  and  in  due  time  strength  will  be  given  you. 
Do  not  trouble  about  the  future ;  seek  only  to  find 
present  peace,  and  all  other  things  will  be  added  as 
they  are  required.  And  as  to  temporal  matters,  my 
dear,  you  need  not  have  the  slightest  uneasiness; 
even  if  Philip  were  less  generous  than  he  is,  there 
is  dear  Granville's  portion,  as  our  eldest  son ;  and 
we  are  not  poor  people  by  any  means.  I  sometimes 
wish  we  had  not  quite  so  much  money ;  it  involves  a 
great  deal  of  trouble,  and  besides  there  is  the  re- 
sponsibility— we  shall  have  to  give  an  account  of 
our  stewardship !  But  this  is  not  to  the  point ;  you 
and  yours  will  be  sacredly  and  lovingly  cared  for ; 
and  if  you  could — if  you  wouldn't  mind  living  in  the 
neighbourhood — it  would  be  such  a  comfort  to  us  to 
know  you  and  the  children  were  always  within 
reach.  But  there,  there  !  I  am  very  selfish !  It  is 
most  natural  that  you  should  like  to  settle  near 
your  own  mother.  I  was  forgetting  that  in  another 
month  she  will  be  going  back  to  Lillingstone,  and 
perhaps,  as  there  seems  a  likelihood  of  both  Katty 
and  Mildred  being  engaged,  you  may  like  to  live  at 
home  again,  so  long  as  Alfred  is  unmarried." 

"No;  I  shall  live  at  Oldminster,  I  think.  But 
do  you  really  think  that  Mr.  Trentham  admires 
Katty?" 

i(  L  am  sure  he  does :  he  saw  her  long  ago,  before 
yci.  were  married.  As  Sir  John's  heir  he  was  often 
D  D  2 


404  THE  LILLINGSTONES. 

at  Harrop  Court,  though  I  believe  you  and  he  never 
met." 

"No,  never.  Of  course  I  knew,  as  Sir  John 
Harrop  had  no  children,  that  his  nephew,  this  Mr. 
Trentham,  was  the  next  heir ;  but  he  was  very  much 
abroad.  The  title,  I  think,  becomes  extinct." 

1  '  Yes  ;  poor  Sir  John  was  the  last  of  the  direct 
line.  I  little  thought  he  would  never  come  back 
from  Italy.  He  was  a  good,  quiet  man;  but  this 
Mr.  Trentham  will  be  of  more  use  in  the  world,  I 
fancy.  Dear  Lady  Harrop  goes  to  her  dower  house 
at  Specleton.  I  am  glad  we  shall  be  neighbours." 

"  Katty  has  said  nothing  to  me  about  Mr.  Trent- 
ham." 

"How  could  she,  my  dear?  When  she  was 
visiting  you  at  Redlands  he  had  not  declared  him- 
self, and  she  could  not  speak  from  surmise ;  then  on 
the  morning,  the  very  morning  after  our  sad  loss, 
she  received  his  letter  of  proposal,  and  at  such  a 
time  she  would  not  intrude  her  own  concerns  on 
you.  Indeed,  the  whole  matter  has  been  in  abeyance 
ever  since,  for  Katty  could  not  bear  entering  upon 
anything  of  the  kind  while  we  were  all  in  such 
sorrow." 

"  Did  I  not  see  Mr.  Trentham  ride  by  yesterday." 

"Yes.  I  thought  you  knew  that  he  dined  with 
your  mamma  yesterday,  though  not  by  special  in- 
vitation. Katty  and  he  will  suit  exactly;  he  is 
so  thoroughly  good  and  kind,  and,  in  fact,  he  is 


THE   GARDEN   WALKS.  405 

everything  that  she  could  wish.  I  am  sure  Mr. 
Herbert  is  delighted  with  him." 

"  But  what  about  Milly  ? — though  I  can  guess.'7 

"  So  can  I;  but  it  is  only  guessing.  I  think, 
though,  Mr.  Campbell  has  no  notion  of  going  back 
to  that  out-of-the-way  place,  Strathallan,  without 
Milly,  or  without  her  promise  that  she  will  let  him 
fetch  her  at  some  appointed  time." 

"Dear,  dear  Milly!  She  deserves  to  be  happy, 
and  I  am  sure  Eric  will  make  her  happy  if  anybody 
can ;  they  will  suit  as  well  as  Katty  and  this  Mr. 
Trentham." 

But  secretly  Bertha  dreaded  meeting  Eric.  He,  of 
all  men,  she  thought,  must  most  despise  her ;  he 
knew  better  than  any  one  the  petty  ambition,  the 
mean  vanity,  the  sordid  littlenesses,  the  coquetries, 
and  the  heartlessness  of  which  she  had  been  guilty. 
She  had  never  seen  him  since  they  parted  at  Strath- 
allan after  her  sudden  and  unexpected  refusal  of  hia 
addresses;  he  had  been  little  in  England,  and  she 
had  never  set  foot  in  Scotland  since  her  marriage ; 
but  now  he  was  at  Oldminster,  and  in  her  mother's 
house.  And  Bertha  had  come  straight  from  Red- 
lands  to  the  house  of  her  father-in-law,  and  there 
she  had  remained  ever  since,  not  even  venturing 
out  to  church  on  the  Sunday.  Eric  had  come  to 
England  and  to  Oldminster  on  important  business. 
His  father  had  been  to  some  extent  involved  in  the 
late  Mr.  Lillingstone's  misfortunes,  and  it  was 


406  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

necessary  that,  in  the  general  settlement  which  was 
being  made  between  Alfred  and  Mr.  James  Gryde, 
the  Campbell  claims  should  be  thoroughly  investi- 
gated, and  honourably  adjusted. 

The  Master  of  Strathallan  had  never,  even  in  his 
younger  days,  liked  business;  and  the  retired  life 
he  had  been  leading  for  years  in  his  lonely  Highland 
castle,  the  idolised  chief  of  a  devoted  clan,  and  the 
happy  husband  of  a  wife  who  was  dearer  and  better 
prized  year  by  year,  and  the  father  of  children  who 
were  the  pride  and  glory  of  his  declining  age,  had 
made  him  more  averse  than  ever  to  entering  upon 
questions  which  disturbed  the  placid  tenor  of  his 
way.  So  when  Alfred  wrote  him  a  long  account  of 
his  transactions  with  Mr.  James  Gryde,  and  begged 
for  an  exact  statement  of  his  own  claims,  he  deputed 
the  whole  business  to  Eric,  bidding  him  go  and  see 
his  cousins,  and  take  the  Campbell  affairs  into  his 
own  hands,  and  not  think  of  returning  till  every- 
thing was  finally  and  satisfactorily  adjusted.  "  And 
mind,"  were  his  last  words,  as  he  parted  from  his 
son  at  Edinburgh,  "mind,  Eric,  ye  bring  me  back 
anither  daughter,  or  the  promise  of  one.  I'm  like 
anither  Allan,  the  Allan  ye  and  Milly  read  of  lang 
syne  ;  and  I'm  fain  to  say — 

1  My  son, 

I  married  late ;  but  I  would  wish  to  see 
My  grandchild  on  my  knees  before  I  die  ; 
And  I  have  set  my  heart  upon  a  match, 
Now  therefore  look  to ' 


THE   GARDEN   WALKS.  407 

I  won't  say  who,  because  I  would  na  force  ye, 
nor  even  lead  ye,  in  such  a  matter;  but  just  bring 
hame  a  guid,  leal-hearted,  sonsie  lass,  to  please 
yourself,  and  you'll  please  me  and  my  lady  too. 
It's  a  great  shame  the  heir  of  Strathallan  shouldn't 
have  his  own  jo,  when  every  Jack  in  the  country- 
side has  got  his  Gill !  " 

And  Eric  nodded  and  smiled,  but  promised 
nothing ;  nevertheless  he  thought  of  Mildred  as  all 
that  day  he  travelled  on  in  the  direction  of  Old- 
minster.  And  Mildred,  when  she  heard  of  his  in- 
tended visit,  had  made  up  her  mind  that  it  would 
be  wiser  to  go  and  see  Bertha,  or  Flora  Gaunt,  or 
anybody,  if  only  she  could  get  away  without  ex- 
citing suspicion ;  but  then  came  the  sad  news  from 
Eedlands,  and  it  would  never  do,  even  if  she  could 
bear  it  herself,  to  leave  Oldininster  when  poor 
Bertha  was  coming.  And  so  she  was  constrained 
to  tarry  at  home  and  school  herself  into  a  proper 
frame  of  mind,  and  await  the  coming  of  Eric  as 
calmly  as  she  could. 

Somehow,  in  the  first  weeks  of  Bertha's  affliction, 
he  and  Mildred  were  thrown  very  much  together, 
and  one  evening,  just  after  Bertha  had  decided  upon 
remaining  at  Oldminster,  as  they  were  pacing  the 
garden  walks  in  the  twilight,  Eric  for  the  first  time 
spoke  openly  and  unreservedly  of  the  unhappiness 
his  cousin  had  caused  him  six  years  before,  when 
she  and  Mildred  were  paying  their  first  visit  at 


408  THE   LTLLINGSTONES. 

Strathallan.  He  ended  by  saying,  "  It  was  an  un- 
happiness  I  needed,  no  doubt.  I  had  everything 
my  own  way,  and  1  wanted  some  rebuff  to  teach 
me  that  I  must  not  expect  to  attain  all  my  wishes 
without  let  or  hindrance.  And  -  after  all,  you  see, 
my  disappointment  turned  to  gain,  for  my  love  for 
Bertha  was  not  such  a  love  as  I  fain  would  have  for 
the  wife  with  whom  I  must  spend  a  lifetime,  and, 
I  trust,  eternity  also !  Her  soft  loveliness,  her  ex- 
quisite beauty  charmed  me,  and  I  stifled  all  the 
misgivings  that  from  time  to  time  arose  as  to  her 
suitability,  or  rather  of  mine  for  her ;  the  regret 
was  keen  at  the  time,  but  it  has  long  been  over. 
Besides,  she  never  cared  for  me." 

"  I  am  glad  of  that,"  said  Mildred,  by  way  of 
saying  something;  "that  is,  I  am  glad  you  are 
quite  happy  again !  " 

"  Not  quite,  Mildred;  my  father  charged  me  to 
bring  him  back  another  daughter,  and  I  cannot  tell 
whether  the  daughter  I  long  to  give  him  will  go 
with  me — whether  she  will  consent  to  be  my  wife. 
If  she  will,  I  will  love  her  dearly,  dearly  !  And 
she  need  not  fear  any  remnants  of  the  old,  boyish 
passion ;  it  has  long  since  faded  away  into  sincere 
cousinly,  or  rather  brotherly,  affection  —  nothing 
more,  nothing  more !  '  There  are  no  birds  in  last 
year's  nests ! '  " 

Mildred  was  silent,  but  she  trembled ;  and  it  was 
well  that  the  shades  of  evening  had  pity  on  her 


THE   GARDEN  WALKS.  409 

glowing  cheeks  and  brow.  Then  Eric  said,  "Oh, 
Milly!  why  do  you  not  speak?  Will  you  be  my 
Milly  ? — my  dear  wife  ?  I  have  wanted  you  for 
many  months,  but  I  shrank  from  a  second  repulse. 
It  was  cowardly,  I  confess ;  but  now  I  would  rather 
know  my  fate,  and  it  is  in  your  hands !  " 

Eric  could  scarcely  hear  the  whisper  that  gave 
him  a  reply ;  it  was  only  one  word,  but  it  was  the 
one  lie  yearned  to  hear.  Eric  and  Mildred  went  in 
affianced  lovers  I 


4:10  THE   LILLINGSTONE8. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE   DOXOLOGY. 

"  GOOD-BYE  !  and  God  bless  you  always ! "  said 
Mr.  Herbert  to  Katharine  Lillingstone,  as  on  the 
evening  before  their  journey,  she  bade  her  kind  pastor 
and  his  wife  a  lingering  farewell.  Katty  could  not 
answer ;  she  could  only  return  the  fervent  pressure 
of  the  hand,  and  walk  quickly  down  the  winding 
walk  that  led  into  the  churchyard. 

There  all  was  still  and  peaceful;  the  slanting 
rays  of  the  setting  sun  shone  full  and  red  on  the 
grey  ivy-clad  tower;  the  rooks  were  cawing  and 
wheeling  round  the  mouldering  battlements,  and  the 
broad  clear  river  swept  softly  on  through  the  Min- 
ster-croft, almost  washing  the  time-honoured  walls 
of  the  venerable  structure  itself.  To  the  southern 
side  Katty  bent  her  steps  ;  there,  with  the  music  of 
the  waters  mingling  with  the  rustling  of  leaves, 
sounding  on  pleasantly  and  calmly  the  livelong  day, 
and  with  the  purple  hills  crowning  the  dark  fir- 
woods  stretching  far  around,  lay  all  that  was  mortal 
of  her  fair  young  sister  Helen. 


THE   DOXOLOGY.  411 

The  grass  had  grown  on  the  quiet  grave,  and 
flowers  were  shedding  their  sweet  perfume  on  the 
green  untrodden  turf;  and  on  the  simple  stone  was 
inscribed : — 

IN  MEMORY  OF 

HELEN  LILLINGSTONE,  OF  LILLINGSTONE, 

WHO  DIED  SEPTEMBER  20TH,  185—, 

AGED  24  YEARS. 

"  There  is  therefore  now  no  condemnation  to  them  which  are  in 
Christ  Jesus."  Romans  viii.  1. 

"  And  God  shall  wipe  away  all  tears  from  their  eyes ! "  Reve- 
lation vii.  17. 

Long  Katty  lingered  there,  till  the  red  sunbeams 
paled  and  died,  and  the  hills  looked  grey  against 
the  soft,  evening  sky,  and  then  she  bent  down  and 
kissed  the  bright  green  turf  and  gathered  a  few 
sprigs  of  fragrant  mignonette,  and,  with  a  strange 
mingling  of  pain  and  joy  and  regret  and  gratitude, 
she  turned  to  go  away.  As  she  rose  and  threw 
back  her  veil,  which  had  fallen  over  her  face,  she 
heard  the  side-gate  swinging  on  the  latch,  and 
looking  up,  she  saw  a  gentleman,  who,  instead  of 
keeping  the  beaten  path,  strode  straight  on  towards 
the  spot  where  she  was  standing.  She  was  just 
then  in  the  shadow  of  a  large  elder-bush,  and  her 
black  dress  was  not  very  conspicuous  against  the 
dark  foliage,  and  in  the  dusky  twilight ;  and  before 
he  could  see  that  he  was  not  alone,  he  was  close  to 


412  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

Helen's  grave,  and  she  had  recognised  the  familiar 
figure  and  countenance  of  Arthur  Lascelles. 

She  felt  at  once  that  she  had  no  right  to  watch 
him  standing  there  on  that  most  sacred  spot;  and 
yet  the  bare  idea  of  speaking  to  him  was  altogether 
painful  and  repulsive.  But  she  remembered  Helen's 
last  message  of  forgiveness,  and  in  the  presence)  as 
it  were,  of  that  beloved  dust,  she  could  not  suffer 
any  unkindly  feeling  towards  him,  who  had  once 
been  to  her  almost  a  brother. 

So  she  stepped  forward,  and,  after  a  moment's 
conflict  with  her  feelings,  held  out  her  hand  to 
him.  He  was  very  pale,  and  the  large  tears  were 
in  his  eyes.  "  Katty  !  "  was  all  he  could  say.  By 
Helen's  grave,  and  to  Helen's  sister,  how  could  he 
speak  ? 

But  Katty  said  quietly,  "I  am  glad  to  have 
met  you,  Mr.  Lascelles,  and  "here  !  She  desired  me, 
if  I  ever  saw  you  again,  to  tell  you  that  she  died  at 
peace  with  you,  and  in  all  affection.  Her  love  was 
not  gone,  only  changed ;  to  the  last  she  loved  you, 
with  that  pure,  holy  love,  that,  as  she  drew  nearer 
and  nearer  the  world  to  come,  extinguished  all 
earthly  passion  and  all  vain  regret.  She  was  very 
happy ! 

"I  killed  her!"  said  Arthur,  in  a  tone  that 
spoke  the  anguish  of  his  heart. 

"  No ;  I  think  that  is  not  quite  the  truth.  Helen 
was  always  delicate,  and  from  her  childhood  there 


THE  DOXOLOGY.  413 

was  a  tendency  to  consumption.  Then  she  was  so 
sensitive ;  her  joys  and  her  sorrows  were  all  so 
intense.  I  do  not  think  she  would  ever  have  been 

quite    happy — and   now! It  is  best   as  it  is, 

Mr.  Lascelles;  she  is  safe,  and  at  peace  for  ever- 
more ! " 

"Yes!"  said  Arthur,  earnestly;  "she  was  of 
those  whose  hearts  are 

'  So  perilously  fashioned,  that  for  them, 
God's  touch  alone  hath  gentleness  enough 
To  waken,  and  not  break  their  thrilling  strings ! ' " 

The  quiet  pensiveness  passed  from  Katty's  face, 
and  something  very  like  indignation  flushed  her 
cheeks.  "  Hush !  "  she  said.  "  You  have  no  right 
to  say  that.  If  you  knew  it,  why  did  you  inflict  so 
keen  a  pang  ?  Mr.  Lascelles,  I  love  poetry  in  itself, 
but  I  do  not  like  it  from  you.  Poetry — real  poetry 
— is  true,  noble,  and  holy ;  but  the  spirit  in  which  you 
adopt  it  makes  it  mere  vapouring  sentimentality !  " 

Mr.  Lascelles  looked  confounded  at  her  vehe- 
mence. "Yes,"  she  added,  "I  wanted  to  speak  to 
you  once  more,  that  I  might  beg  you,  for  your  own 
sake,  to  reflect  whether  it  is  wise  or  right  to  spend 
life  in  a  mere  poetic  dream  ?  Depend  upon  it,  Mr. 
Lascelles,  something  rough  and  real  and  practical 
would  do  you  more  good  than  all  the  poetry  in  the 
world  i  Life  is  a  solemn,  earnest  reality,  not  a  high- 
flown  vision.  *  Heaven  must  be  won,  not  dreamed  ' 


414  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

I  have,  perhaps,  no  right  to  speak  thus ;  except  a? 
fellow-creatures,  we  are  and  can  be  nothing  to  each 
other  now ;  but  for  the  sake  of  the  past  I  say  it  in 
kindness,  and  in  friendly  warning.  Good-bye.  May 
God  lead  you  aright !  " 

"  Good-bye;  but,  Katty — Miss  Lillingstone — I 
hope  we  shall  meet  again." 

"  I  hope  not,  Mr.  Lascelles ;  the  interview  would 
be  painful  to  me,  and  to  all  belonging  to  me ;  it 
ought  to  be  so  to  you,  and  doubly  so.  Good-bye." 
And  with  a  feeling  of  relief  and  thankfulness  that. 
Helen  was  not  this  man's  wife,  she  turned  away 
and  left  him  there  in  the  deepening  twilight,  stand- 
ing by  the  grave  of  his  early  and  forsaken  love. 

When  Katty  reached  home,  she  found  Bertha 
alone  in  the  drawing-room  ;  she  had  just  been  seeing 
her  little  daughters  to  bed.  Katty  told  her  whom 
she  had  seen,  and  what  had  passed  between  them ; 
and  when  she  finished,  Bertha  said,  "  I  am  glad 
you  said  that,  Katty ;  it  is  good  to  hear  the  truth  ; 
though  I  suppose  one  may  always  hear  that,  if  one 
will  but  listen  and  heed.  But  how  could  he — 
how  could  he  stand  there,  by  Helen's  grave,  quoting 
poetry  about  her  ?  " 

"How  indeed!  But,  Bertha  dear,  let  us  talk  of 
something  else  on  this,  our  last  night  in  the  old  place. 
I  wish  you  were  goiog  with  us ;  if  you  would  rather 
stay  here  and  keep  up  a  household  of  your  own,  you 
might  just  go  down  with  us  to  take  possession.  It 


THE   DOXOLOGY.  415 

hardly  seem  like  what  we  have  so  often  pic- 
tured, with  you  and  Helen  not  there." 

"  !No,  no,  Katty  dear,  do  not  press  me ;  I  cannot 
go — nay,  1  will  not ;  I  should  only  be  a  dark  shadow 
on  the  joy  that  you  must,  and  ought  to  feel,  on 
returning  to  dear  old  Lillingstone.  And  that  is  not 
all :  I  am  not  worthy  to  he  there  again.  I  have 
not  been  like  the  rest  of  you,  quiet  and  humble, 
patiently  awaiting  the  brighter  day.  God  sent  us  all 
discipline — the  best  and  kindest  of  discipline,  that 
which  has  to  be  borne  in  youth — and  I  rebelled  and 
struggled,  and  obstinately  refused  to  submit  to  the 
yoke  that  Almighty  wisdom  in  Almighty  love  im- 
posed. Our  way  was  hedged  up  with  thorns,  but 
I  refused  to  tread  the  narrow,  obscure  path  ;  and  I 
broke  through  the  hedge  in  hopes  of  finding  the 
splendours  and  distinctions  from  which  I  seemed, 
here,  in  this  quiet  old  town,  utterly  debarred.  I 
found  what  I  wanted,  but  not  the  satisfaction,  not 
the  happiness,  I  vainly  thought  would  accrue.  And 
now  I  am  glad  to  stay  here,  in  this  sombre  place, 
that  in  my  wicked  pride  I  once  so  much  despised. 
I  could  not  go  back  to  Lillingstone  now,  even  for  a 
week.  God  has  given  it  back  to  my  mother,  and  to 
all  her  other  living  children,  but  not  to  me.  Some 
day,  perhaps,  when  the  memory  of  the  past  is  not 
so  bitter,  when  Lily  and  Rose  are  older,  I  may  come 
with  them,  and  see  the  dear  old  house  again." 

"Eut,    Bertha,"    and  Katty' s    sweet    face   was 


416  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

covered  with  a  maidenly  blush,  "you  will  often 
come  to  Harrop.  Charles  counts  upon  having  you 
and  the  children  there,  so  soon  as  ever  we  come  back 
from  Switzerland ;  we  shall  be  so  near,  you  know." 

"  Dear  Katty,  if  it  will  give  you  pleasure  I  will 
come ;  though  Harrop  Court  will  have  many  bitter 
memories.  You  do  not  know  how  much  I  thought 
of  visiting  there,  and  for  such  worldly,  miserable 
reasons.  Eut  that  is  a  long  time  to  look  forward  to ; 
only  tell  me,  was  it  settled  after  all ;  is  the  wedding 
to  be  next  April  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  and,  of  course,  Mildred's  at  the  same  time ; 
that  is,  if  Eric  can  be  brought  to  wait  till  then — he 
has  been  pleading  for  a  marriage  before  Christmas." 

"  And  what  does  Mildred  say  ?  " 

"She  would  rather  it  were  left  till  April;  she 
will  be  twenty-one  then,  and  she  would  prefer 
settling  at  Strathallan  when  the  weather  is  not 
exactly  wintry.  There  are  many  reasons  why  we 
both  wish  for  April,  and  for  the  same  day." 

"  Milly  will  be  very  far  away;  but  in  these  days 
of  express  trains  and  electric  messages,  distance  is 
almost  annihilated.  And  now,  can  I  help  you  in 
any  way  ?  Mamma  and  Mildred  and  Eric  are  gone 
to  say  good-bye  to  Mrs.  Armstrong;  Alice  is  busy 
somewhere.  Do  you  know,  Katty,  in  some  of  her 
ways  she  reminds  me  of  my  old  self.  I  hope  she 
\vill  not  grow  up  like  me — she  really  is  very 
managing  for  her  age." 


THE   DOXOLOGY.  417 

"There  is  no  harm  in  being  managing,  and  I 
think  you  need  not  fear  for  Alice.  Dear  Helen  was 
afraid  she  would  turn  out  dreamy  and  romantic,  as 
she  said  she  was  herself ;  but  it  seems  to  me  that 
our  little  sister  partakes  equally  of  both  dispositions ; 
she  is  a  little  inclined  to  be  pensive,  and  I  am  sure, 
every  now  and  then,  she  lives  &U  by  herself  in  a 
golden  dream-world  of  her  own.  But  then  she  is 
so  quick  and  notable,  so  neat-fingered  and  ready- 
handed,  so  sensible  about  common  everyday  matters, 
and  so  willing  to  be  useful  and  helpful  to  all  around 
her,  that  I  really  think  the  one  set  of  qualities  will 
just  balance  the  other,  and  so  preserve  the  equili- 
brium necessary  to  a  really  estimable  and  admirable 
character." 

"  I  hope  so.  It  is  well  that  her  tact  and  general 
cleverness  are  tempered  with  something  a  little  more 
highly  wrought  and  ethereal.  Better  she  were  the 
veriest  dreamer  on  the  face  of  the  earth,  than  such  a 
worldling,  such  a  vain,  selfish,  scheming  woman  as 
I  have  been !  " 

"Bertha,  dearest,  do  not  speak  so  bitterly  of 
yourself!  If  you  have  erred,  and  strayed  from  the 
right  way,  God  has  not  suffered  you  to  wander 
altogether.  He  has  brought  you  back,  that  you  may 
say,  '  I  will  arise  and  go  unto  my  Father,  and  say 
unto  Him,  Father,  I  have  sinned  against  Heaven 
and  before  Thee,  and  am  no  more  worthy  to  be 
sailed  Thy  child!'" 

MM 


418  THE   ULLINGSTONES. 

"  I  do  say  it !  I  have  said  it  many  times,"  sot>t>ed 
poor  Bertha ;  "  but  oh,  Katty,  you  don't  know  what 
it  is  to  have  hardened  your  heart  for  years !  For  a 
long  time  I  thought  God  would  never  give  me  the 
spirit  of  true  repentance,  I  had  trifled  with  warn- 
ings and  convictions  so  often ;  but  the  other  day  I 
opened  my  Bible  and  read,  « I  will  heal  their  back- 
slidings :  I  will  love  them  freely :  for  mine  anger  is 
turned  away  from  him.'  And  that  gave  me  hope ; 
and  I  wept  softer  tears,  and  felt  that  some  day,  in 
the  right  time,  I  should  find  the  peace  which,  till 
now,  I  have  never  cared  to  seek." 

"I  think  you  are  finding  it  now,  dearest!  A 
little  comfort  and  a  little  peace  from  the  one  true 
source  is  sure  to  widen  and  deepen  continually,  till 
at  last,  one  comes  to  take  in  all  the  force  and  all  the 
blessing  of  those  words  of  the  Saviour  Himself, 
'Peace  I  leave  with  you;  my  peace  I  give  unto 
you:  not  as  the  world  giveth  give  I  unto  you. 
Let  not  your  heart  be  troubled,  neither  let  it  be 
afraid.'  " 

"  I  trust  it  will  be  so ;  I  do  indeed  desire  to  live 
a  new  life,  with  new  hopes,  new  aims,  new  prin- 
ciples of  action,  nay,  I  want  to  be  a  new  creature  in 
Christ  Jesus!  What  Paul  said  to  the  Ephesians 
applies  exactly  to  me :  '  That  ye  put  off,  concerning 
the  former  conversation,  the  old  man,  which  is  cor- 
rupt, according  to  the  deceitful  lusts,  and  be  re- 
newed in  the  spirit  of  your  mind,  that  ye  put  on  the 


THE  DOXOLOGY.  419 

new  man,  which  after  God  is  created  in  righteous- 
ness and  true  holiness.' " 

"  The  spirit  will  be  renewed,  dearest;  none  ever 
asked  in  vain !  The  new  life  has  begun  with  you, 
I  am  certain ;  and  your  light  will  wax  brighter 
and  brighter  unto  the  perfect  day !  " 

"  God  grant  it,  Katty !  But  it  will  be  hard  work ; 
you  cannot  imagine  ho  to  hard.  Good  Dr.  Watts  was 
right  when  he  said — 

*  'Tis  easier  work  if  we  begin 
To  serve  the  Lord  betimes/ 

I  shall  never  enter  the  Church  of  God  on  earth 
through  the  Beautiful  gate  of  the  Temple ;  the 
freshness  and  the  first  bloom  of  youth  have  been 
given  to  the  world !  " 

"But  there  is  the  vigour  and  the  fulness  of  riper 
years  to  come.  Look  onward,  darling  Bertha,  and 
believe  that  the  errors  of  the  past  are  all  cancelled, 
all  blotted  out,  by  Him  who  removeth  our  trans- 
gressions from  us,  as  far  as  the  east  is  from  the 
west ;  and,  to  quote  the  good  old  Doctor  again,  ask 

'  For  pardon  for  the  past, 
And  grace  for  days  to  come  ! '  " 

"  There  is  one  thing  that  gives  me  unmingled 
joy  !  I  am  so  glad  to  think  that  dear  Granville  was 
a  Christian !  He  had  not,  perhaps,  as  much  light 
as  I  had,  and  his  religious  education  was  rather 


420  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

quaint  and  formal  in  its  outward  seeming ;  but  I 
know  his  hope  was  a  right  hope — *  the  hope  that 
maketh  not  ashamed ; '  and  he  always  lived  up  to  his 
convictions,  and  up  to  all  the  light  and  knowledge 
he  possessed.  He  was  faithful  over  a  few  things, 
and  now,  I  doubt  not,  he  is  made  ruler  over  many 
things ;  for  he  has  entered  into  the  joy  of  his  Lord ! 
Oh,  if  I  can  but  meet  him  again  in  that  better 
world !  if  I  can  but  train  his  children  for  that  higher 
and  holier  life !  Katty  dearest,  you  will  pray  for 
me  always  ?  " 

"Always,  always,  Bertha!  I  shall  never  pray 
for  myself  without  remembering  you ;  and  not  I 
alone,  but  Mildred,  and  mamma,  and  others." 

"I  need  your  earnest  prayers  so  much,  so  very 
much!  I  am  weaker  than  you  fancy,  and  harder 
than  you  know.  And  then  my  children — I  am  not 
worthy  to  guide  them,  to  try  to  bring  them  up  in 
the  nurture  and  admonition  of  the  Lord.  Yes; 
pray  for  me  as  you  love  me,  and  pray  without 
ceasing ! " 

Another  twenty-four  hours,  and  Bertha  was  alone 
with  her  children  in  the  old  house  at  Oldminster ; 
while  Mrs.  Lillingstone,  her  three  daughters,  and 
"Walter  and  Eric,  were  approaching  the  end  of  their 
journey.  At  the  last  railway  station  a  carriage 
with  the  Lillingstone  arms  and  crest  on  the  panel 
was  awaiting  them ;  and  in  the  soft,  clear  light  of 
the  fair  August  afternoon,  they  retraversed  the  wild, 


THE  DOXOLOGY.  421 

beautiful  country  that  last  they  had  seen  when 
leaving  in  tears  and  in  almost  hopeless  sadness  the 
beloved  home  of  other  days — the  inheritance  which 
had  passed,  as  it  then  seemed  for  ever,  from  the 
Lillingstones  of  Lillingstone. 

.  The  carriage  rolled  swiftly  on,  and  soon  they  camo 
upon  the  heath  that  lay  between  Lillingstone  and 
the  sea.  There  were  the  woods;  the  dark  pines 
that  belted  the  hills ;  presently  the  grey  church- 
tower;  and — yes!  rising  above  the  rich  foliage  of 
the  trees,  the  ancient  turrets  of  the  stately  pile — 
their  own  Lillingstone ! 

Once  more  they  were  in  the  village,  and  right 
across  the  road  was  a  fresh  green  arch,  with  a 
pleasant  "  welcome"  woven  of  dahlias  in  the  midst; 
and  a  banner  floated  proudly  over  the  antiquated 
chimney- tops  of  the  "  Lillingstone  Arms."  Mrs. 
Merriton  stood  at  her  door,  attired  in  her  very  best 
gown  and  cap,  curtseying,  and  looking  her  joy, 
though  words  she  had  none,  and  the  tears  were 
running  in  rivers  down  her  rosy  cheeks.  All  the 
villagers  had  turned  out  in  their  Sunday  clothes; 
but  Alfred  had  begged  of  them  not  to  be  too  de- 
monstrative— he  knew  that  his  mother  could  not 
bear  it.  So,  in  respectful  silence,  but  with  broad 
smiles  and  tearful  gladness,  the  crowd  lined  the 
familiar  way.  But  when  the  lodge- gates  were  fairly 
reached,  and  the  carriage  really  under  the  stone- 
shield  in  the  centre,  the  church-bells  burst  out  into 


422  THE   LILLINGSTONES. 

a  right  joyous  peal,  and  up  went  the  flag  on  the 
tower,  the  signal  for  unlimited  cheering  in  the  vil- 
lage below. 

And  Alfred  was  ready  to  open  the  carriage  door, 
and  to  lead  his  mother  up  the  broad  steps,  across 
the  hall,  and  to  her  own  favourite  seat  in  the  large 
drawing-room,  where  she  had  been  mistress  for  so 
many  years  in  the  old  time.  Eric  led  his  own  Mil- 
dred to  the  same  spot,  and  then  he  hurried  away, 
lest  he  should  intrude  on  the  sacredness  of  that 
happy  hour  of  restoration.  And  Mrs.  Lillingstone 
sat  like  one  in  a  dream,  while  her  children  gathered 
round  her,  silent,  yet  calmly  glad.  At  last  she 
said,  "Oh  Alfred,  my  boy,  is  it  real?  Have  you 
indeed  brought  your  mother  back  to  her  home  ?  or 
is  it,  as  it  has  often  been  before,  a  dream — only  a 
dream?" 

"  No  dream,  dear  mother — Lillingstone  is  our  own 
again !  God  took  it  away  in  His  goodness  and  in 
His  mercy;  in  His  great  loving-kindness  He  has 
restored  it.  Shall  we  not  live  a  life  of  praise 
here?" 

"Yes,  yes!  my  dear  son!  God  has  been  very 
good  to  us — good  in  giving  us  the  chastening  we 
needed;  good  in  comforting  us  in  our  days  of 
sorrow,  and  in  guiding  us  through  many  devious 
ways ;  and  good,  oh,  how  good,  in  bringing  us  back 
to  our  beloved  home  !  And  at  the  appointed  time 
may  He  receive  us  into  a  better  home  than  this, 


THE  DOXOLOGY.  423 

where  He  lias  gone  to  prepare  a  place  for  us.  Kiss 
me,  my  own  dear  son !  Your  mother  rejoices,  and 
"blesses  God  that  you  are  master  of  the  inheritance 
of  your  race !  " 

There  was  more  than  one  kiss — there  were  many 
embraces,  and  some  happy  tears ;  and  at  last  Alfred 
rose  from  his  mother's  knees,  where  he  had  bent  to 
receive  her  kiss  and  her  blessing,  and  said,  "One 
thing  before  we  separate :  let  us  sanctify  this  first 
hour  at  Lillingstone ;  let  us  give  praise  with  our 
hearts,  and  with  our  lips  also.  Let  us  all  join  in 
singing— 

'  Praise  God  from  whom  all  blessings  flow ; 
Praise  Him  all  creatures  here  below ; 
Praise  Him  above^  ye  heavenly  host; 
Praise  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost !'" 


TILE   EKD. 


YB    /388V 


